


Special Friends

by panicattackkisses



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 58,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3429077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panicattackkisses/pseuds/panicattackkisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Lydia have one drunken night together that leads to something more. It takes them both a while to figure it out though. Friends with Benefits Stydia. Rated M for language and smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

When Stiles’ phone buzzed and lit up with the image of Lydia with two chopsticks in her mouth, he answered immediately.  
“I thought I told you you can’t keep calling me up for meaningless, mind blowing sex, Lydia”.

"Hilarious, Stilinski".  
He could hear her grin through the phone.  
“Anyway, are you free tonight?”  
Stiles closed the textbook he had been studying from and shoved himself away from his desk, letting the wheels on his chair take him skating across his bedroom.  
He scoffed, “that’s just cruel Miss Martin”.  
Lydia made a noise of protest and Stiles could imagine her lip falling into a pout of mock outrage.  
“That was a genuine question, I’ll have you know! You could have very well have had plans”.  
“On valentines day?” Stiles sighed.  
“Well in that case, I’ll be over in an hour”. Before the boy could ask why she, Lydia Martin, did also not have plans on valentines day, she hung up.

It didn’t take long for Stiles to get ready; he ripped off the T-shirt he was wearing and chucked into the oblivion that was his closet before reaching for a clean one.  
He stumbled down the stairs, his bare feet slapping against the wooden floorboards as he fixed the belt on his jeans. He ran his hands through his hair as he padded around the kitchen, trying in vain to calm the messy flicks that were now falling into his eyes.  
“Get a goddamn haircut, son”. He could practically hear his dads voice berating him despite the currently empty house.  
Stiles rummaged around the cupboards, pulling out various packets of sweets and half eaten popcorn from Lydia’s previous night visits to the Stilinski residence. He checked that the tub of ice cream was still hidden at the back of the freezer and then ran back upstairs to find his lacrosse jersey.  
He located it with quick success, cramming the pile of textbooks, mythology guides and other clothing back under his bed.  
Giving himself another quick once over when passing the mirror, he strolled back downstairs in time to see Lydia letting herself in the front door.

She strolled in with quiet confidence, her long locks swept up and away from her face in the messiest bun Stiles had witnessed yet.  
He smiled in greeting, reaching her as he hopped off the last step. With a grand sweep of his arm, he gestured into the living room.  
“Be prepared for the night of your life, Martin”.

Lydia laughed happily, allowing the boy to rest his hand on the small of her back, leading her into the family room that she knew so well.  
She squealed with delight upon seeing the stacks of sweets, chips and popcorn laid out. Next to the largest tub of gummy worms they had once found, was a pile of DVDs ranging from Star Wars to Saw ||| and then The Notebook.  
Lydia’s eyes went wide and she brought her hands up to her chest in an overly dramatic fashion.  
“You’d watch the notebook with me again?!”  
Stiles tried to contain his smirk as he went into the kitchen only to reappear seconds later with a bottle of vodka.  
“We can watch my version of The Notebook”.  
“Take a shot every time they kiss?”  
“You know me so well”.

Before Lydia could even take a seat on the couch, Stiles lacrosse jersey was dumped unceremoniously on top of her auburn head. She yanked it away, watching as the boy fell onto the sofa beside her with a grin.  
She returned the smile before to yank it over her head. Stiles watched with quiet satisfaction as his name appeared across her back, the maroon material clashing horribly with her hair as it fell to her knees. The skin tight jeans she wore became practically hidden and Stiles frowned at this discovery. He loved those jeans.

Lydia had dragged him shopping one day and after a forty three minute argument and a haphazardly made ‘’power point’’ on his phone was presented on why owning at least one pair of jeans would be beneficial for Lydia, she gave in. Stiles cheeks hurt from grinning that day.  
“So, why don’t you have any pla-’’  
Before Lydia could return to her seat, or the boy could finish his sentence, Lydia reached underneath the enormous sweatshirt and wiggled her body in a curious fashion.

Stiles’ speech halted and he raised his eyebrows at the girl. His questions were answered when the denim material peeled away from her legs. Lydia kicked the offending clothing to the floor and she fell back onto the sofa, throwing her long, now bare legs, over Stiles’.  
She smiled smugly as his mouth hung open, his eyes a few shades darker than she knew them to usually be.  
“What?’’

Stiles merely stuttered in response, his hand casting dramatic motions as he gestured to the bare skin that was so teasingly placed across his lap.  
“I figured I may as well get comfortable, we’re friends right?’’  
Stiles scoffed and he watched Lydia smirk at his speechlessness, she reveled in the feminine control she had over him.  
“Uh, yeah. We’re friends. Do you do this with all your friends or is Isaac the one who gets to hold your bra on Tuesdays?’’ He winked, teasing and baiting the banshee as she pursed her lips in return.  
Lydia waited until the laughter that rose to her lips at question disappeared.  
She did not enjoy giving Stiles’ the satisfaction of making her laugh - she tried to limit it to at least eight times a day.  
God forbid she allowed him to have any more control over her emotions than he already did.

“No, don’t be so silly’’, she drawled coyly, letting herself stretch out languidly across him. Her bare feet rubbed the back of his denim clad calf innocently. Stiles’ lips twitched at her actions and he gazed up at her accusingly through his ridiculously long lashes.  
“We’re special friends - only special friends do this”, her lips fell into a pout and she winked at Stiles in the most dramatic fashion she could muster, “besides, I acquire Isaac’s assistance on Friday’s, not Tuesday’s…’’  
“I’m confiscating the gummy worms and so help me god woman, if you think you’re getting any ice cream’’.  
Lydia fell back into the cushions as her smile broke free and she laughed loudly and freely - the way that Stiles’ once told her he adored.  
“Your cheeks go all pink and you look so happy. You look fucking gorgeous, Lydia’’.  
“I apologize, friend’’.  
“Apology accepted, friend’’, he handed her the gummy worms.

When the door rang to signal the arrival of pizza, Lydia still hadn’t told Stiles why he didn’t have a date on Valentines Day.  
“But you always have a date, like literally every year…’’ Stiles, pushed himself off of the kitchen counter, making his way to answer the door as the pizza boy insisted on pressing the bell repeatedly, “Jesus, this guy’s in a hurry - HEY!’’  
Lydia froze in the hallway, looking at Stiles with wide eyes and her purse in hand. Stiles stood with one hand on the door handle whilst the other was pointed accusingly at Lydia.  
His expression was one of complete shock.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!’’ He protested with a flail of his hand. Lydia simply rose her eyebrows in response.  
She gestured to her purse.“Paying for my half of the pizza?’’  
“I am not opening this door with you standing there like that’’, Stiles pointed to her bare legs and the long expanse of porcelain skin that was exposed.  
Lydia made a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a sigh of exasperation.  
“You’re kidding me, right?’’  
“Are you actively aiming to give this dude a heart attack? Or were you aiming for a seizure?’’  
Lydia merely spluttered and raised her arms in defeat, dropping her purse back into her back. She shuffled past an adamant Stiles and walked through to the living room, yelling behind her.  
“Okay, dad!’’  
“Special friend!’’ Stiles yelled back as he opened the door to a confused and impatient delivery guy.  
“…Sorry bro”.  
“I’ve heard weirder things tonight’’.

“So you’re actually refusing to tell me? All you’re giving me is, you were supposed to have a date with a dude called Matthew and you canceled? Seriously?’’  
Stiles threw a pizza crust back into the box that sat between them, “That’s all you’re giving me?’’  
Lydia sat crossed legged on the other side of the sofa as she stared blankly back at Stiles, chewing thoughtfully on her pizza slice before nodding.

The boy made a noise of frustration as he leaned over to steal another slice from the box, pausing as Lydia placed her unwanted pepperoni onto it.  
He flicked her leg in both thanks and annoyance. He screwed up his face at her as he ripped off a chunk of food and mumbled, “Leheeya, um ma gud, why on’t oo tell meh?!’’  
Instead of answering she threw her napkin at him and pointed at his empty soda glass.  
“Drink?’’  
Without waiting for another unintelligible answer, she rose from the couch and grabbed their cups, moving quickly to the kitchen.

“So, Matthew, yeah?’’  
Lydia rolled her eyes at the boys persistent as he called through to her from the sofa. She opened the fridge in search for something cold and made a noise of agreement back to him.  
“Sounds like a dick’’.  
His monotone response made her laugh and spill the soda she had been carefully pouring - her mind imagining the way Stiles’ lip would curl and his eyes would narrow as he dismissed this stranger he had never met.

She shuffled around the kitchen comfortably, searching for the ketchup she had spotted behind some cereal boxes earlier.  
“I’ll have you know, he was actually quite the gentleman…’’  
She located the sauce with a happy hum and tucked it under her arm, grabbing their now full glasses as she wandered back into the living room.  
Stiles accepted his juice with a thanks and continued to stare at Lydia with the curious expression he wore so well.

When she took a long gulp of her soda and happily squirted ketchup on the remainder of her pizza, Lydia looked up to find Stiles looking at her still.  
“Fucking hell, Stiles, stop!’’  
He took no offense to her words and merely shuffled closer to her, setting the empty pizza box out of the way and lifting her legs to rest over his own once more.  
Stiles let his head fall onto the back of the cushion as he turned to face her, letting his eyes soften and his lips pout more than they already did.  
For seven and a half minutes, the girl ignored him, instead nibbling on her pizza, reading and re-reading the back of a DVD box repeatedly.

The second she had swallowed her last bite, Stiles swiped the box from her hands and flung i across the room to the other chair before yanking Lydia’s whole body on top of his own.  
She protested and pawed him away without any intention of actually doing so, instead allowing her weight to fall into him naturally until she was sat on his lap.  
“Can I help you?’’  
“Yes, you could tell me why you aren’t out with Matth-’’  
“I wonder what Scott and Allison are up to…’’  
“Lydia’’.  
“Allison had been hinting at this little Italian place all week, wonder if Scott caught on?’’  
“…Lydia’’.  
“Of course he did, he’s Scott’’.  
“Oh my god-’’  
“Oh, did you hear that Isaac asked Malia out?’’  
“I genuinely don’t think I could care less’’.  
“Yeah I found it a bit out of the blue…’’  
“Lydia?’’  
“…But they look cute together, so who knows…’’

Eventually, with much satisfaction on Lydia’s behalf, Stiles gave in and unceremoniously shuffled his way from underneath the girl. He half crawled, half shuffled to the TV set, muttering obscenities and ‘’special friend’s rights’’ along the way.  
Lydia ignored him before squealing in delight as he picked up ‘’The Notebook’’ and placed it into the player.  
As the opening credits appeared on the screen, Stiles dimmed the lights and made his way back to the couch, watching with a smirk as Lydia reached for the bottle of vodka that had sat teasingly before them.  
She allowed him to crash down beside her, her legs once again resuming their natural position across his lap. She almost flinched in surprise as he rested his hands on her bare skin, his long fingers wrapping around her slender calf and his rough palms creating goosebumps.  
He rubbed up and down her legs as if she were cold and to distract herself from both the sensations he was creating and the tense silence, she waved the small bottle of clear liquid in front of him.  
“Ready to get slightly inebriated?’’  
Stiles smirked at her through the fading light, “Hell yeah - the small pro’s of still being human’’.


	2. Chapter Two

After the infamous “kiss in the rain” scene had passed and Lydia had insisted it was worthy of a double shot; Stiles and the girl were rather drunk.   
They had passed “slightly inebriated” when Stiles lost the debate regarding Ryan Gosling and the attractiveness of his beard.

Now, they were slumped together on the sofa, side by side and giggling for no real reason.  
"This movie has to have pretty much the worst ending ever… Fuck!"  
Stiles rubbed his arm, glaring at Lydia who had pinched him upon hearing his words.  
"That’s practically blasphemy!"  
The boy grinned, “I’m pretty sure you couldn’t spell ‘blasphemy’ right now”.  
She considered it for a second before scowling at him instead. The movie credits rolled and she sighed, leaning back into the cushions and into the boys side.  
The sat uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, before Stiles chanced his luck.  
"So… Why are you here tonight?"  
Lydia fought the urge to roll her eyes and instead smiled in an overly sweet fashion and simpered, “‘Cause you’re my special friend, silly”.

Stiles really did roll his eyes at her attempt to evade the continuous question. He knew he was probably annoying her by now but curiosity was practically engraved in his DNA and he really wanted to know.  
Instead, he gave a gentle push to her leg and then allowed the girl to curl into his side. His arm fell naturally around the curve of her waist and she found comfort in his touch.

"Comfy?"  
"Mmmm".  
As always, with alcohol, Stiles and Lydia would be much more open and confident around each other and this of course, led to more touching, more teasing and more flirting - much to the amusement and, sometimes disgust, of their friends.  
He played with a curl that had fallen loose from her nest of hair and sighed happily.  
Vodka ran through his veins like an electric current and warmth surround him as did Lydia’s perfume.

"Hey, remember that time I ran through the woods naked for, like, three days?"  
Stiles took the light hearted approach and chuckled and the memory. Lydia grinned as his laughter seeped into her body.  
"I must have thought I was fucking Tarzan or something…"  
Stiles laughed louder and peered down at the girl, “that must have been some weekend”.

Lydia glanced up at him from her spot on his shoulder and giggled. She nodded with pursed lips.  
"I’ll never forget that stumble you took".  
She watched for his reaction and smirked with satisfaction as a telltale blush met the surface of his cheeks.

The boy cleared his throat awkwardly, trying in vain to keep the smirk off of his lips, “You almost brought me to my knees, Miss Martin - I was trying to be a gentleman too…”  
She scoffed and sat up, challenging him with bright, wide eyes and a coy smirk.

"You, a gentleman?" She teased.  
Stiles let his jaw drop open as he did his best at looking shocked. Lydia simply arched an eyebrow in return, daring him to argue.  
He didn’t.   
She fell back into the couch beside him, reveling in the warmth that radiated from his body. Seeing Stiles in without a plaid shirt on over his usual T-shirt did things to Lydia that she was sure she could never admit out loud.  
His bare arms were toned from years of lacrosse practice and still tanned from their pack weekends at the beach in Summer. Constellations of freckles and moles were dusted along his skin and Lydia ached to reach out and just place her hand on him. To feel his warmth, his strength. Sometimes, it was just to remind herself that after all this time, and all that they had been through, he was still here.  
The TV faded to black and the dimmed lights were almost usual against the fall darkness outside. Stiles counted the lacrosse stick dents on the ceiling four times over before finally murmuring, “Hey, remember that time I had a stupid panic attack and you kissed me?’’

Lydia froze and kept her gaze straight ahead, only seeing the reflection of the two of them in the blacked out TV screen. They were both still.  
“I remember that’’.  
Stiles made a noise of agreement in the back of his throat and kept his head lent back, his eyes fixed on anywhere but her.  
Lydia surprised both of them by quietly adding, “That’s definitely one of the better memories of the past few years’’.  
Stiles almost choked on his own words as blinked in shock and exclaimed, “…Really?’’

Lydia let her own head drop back onto the cushions and squinted up at the curious dents on the Stilinski’s ceiling. She smirked before telling the boy with vodka saturated confidence, “Really’’.  
Her head rolled to the side to gaze upon the cluster of moles on Stiles’ cheek. The faint outline of evening stubble cast shadows across his cheekbones and she sighed almost inaudibly.   
“Wanna know why I cancelled on Matthew?’’  
Stiles chuckled and spoke with as much casualness as he could muster, “You know, it never really crossed my mind-’’  
Lydia tutted rolled her eyes with a smile at his predictable answer and gave a careless slap to his shoulder. Stiles turned his head to her, his nose almost grazing her own and his breath falling across her parted lips. His eyes were warm and playful, the alcohol rushing through his senses.  
“Go on then’’.

A rare blush rose to Lydia’s cheeks and Stiles’ interest was piqued. He waited rather impatiently as she turned her face away from his own, her gaze returning to the ceiling before she turned back to him with finality in her movements.  
“Well, we didn’t really have much chemistry’’.  
Stiles nodded slowly, his lips pursed as he processed the information, “Cause he’s a douche?’’ He suggested helpfully.  
The girl smiled and shook her head, “I meant it when I said he was gentleman earlier’’.  
Stiles made a face of disagreement before asking his friend what the problem was.  
Lydia opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. She met Stiles eyes with a spark of hesitance and playfulness in her own.  
To be honest, it rather frightened Stiles.

“He was a nice guy and had good conversational skills… a rather high IQ as well, to be fair, and he had no family history of diseas-’’  
“Lydia…’’  
She huffed at being cut off but didn’t argue. Instead she smacked her lips together and turned back to the boy with a scowl.  
“I was getting there!’’   
Stiles simply nodded and made a face that was so full of sarcasm that Lydia decided it would be best to ignore it.  
“We didn’t… fit right’’, She pondered over the right words to use, “He just wasn’t very satisfying’’.  
“Oh?’’  
“Sexually’’.  
“Oh’’, Stiles let out the breath he had been holding and slowly turned to look back at the girl. She met his eyes with confidence and an innocent red lipped smile that he knew did not belong on her.  
“And why, my dear Lydia, are you telling this? Just out of curiosity…’’ Stiles raised his eyebrows, still slightly alarmed at the direction this late night, semi-drunken conversation was going.

“Well Stiles, because you’re my friend and friends can share this kind of stuff, right?’’ Her eyes were wide and withholding secrets and emotions Stiles wished he knew.   
“Have you mistaken me for Allison or Kira? One shot too many there, Martin…?’’  
Another eye roll, “No Stiles, we’re special friends, remember?’’  
He gulped and reached for the bottle of vodka.   
After three small swings and a telling off from Lydia, he swung his body around, crossing his legs on the sofa and facing the girl.   
He clapped his hands and held them out to her.   
“Okay, here we go. Special friend time - lay it on me sister, let me guide you in your womanly troubles’’.  
“Oh good god’’.  
Lydia crawled around to face him with an amused smile and raised eyebrows, “Well, this should be considerably hilarious. She mirrored his pose and sat Indian style opposite him, a cushion tucked under her arm and a newly opened pack of Doritos in her lap.

“So, talk to me - what happened, what went wrong, do I need to beat this guy up… slash set my pack of ferocious werewolves on him?’’ He made claws with his hands and attempted to growl. Lydia almost choked on a dorito when it came out as a gentle ‘hiss’.  
She coughed and spluttered as Stiles grinned at her, swiftly taking the already pre-chosen chip out of her hand and cramming it into his own mouth.  
Wiping tears from her eyes, she shook her head, smiling, “No, no one needs to be eaten by werewolves today - thank you’’.  
Stiles made a show of being disappointed, complaining that he had three sets of spiked collars and matching leads waiting for the right moment.  
Lydia hoped and prayed he was kidding.

“I don’t know, he was a nice guy but we just didn’t click’’, Lydia shrugged and inspected her nails, “It felt unfair to have another date with him - on Valentines Day as well’’.  
Stiles nodded slowly, pulling a handful of chips from the packet as he thought.  
“Well that seems fair enough, I guess. How many dates did you have with this guy?’’  
Lydia quickly counted off on her fingers before guessing.  
“Around eight or so?’’   
Stiles coughed nervously and gestured to thin air with his hand as he mumbled, “So when did you know, attempt to… when did you discover, he wasn’t very satisfying. To you. Sexually. To you…’’ He mentally berated himself and pretended he didn’t see Lydia smiling at him.  
“Well…’’

Thirty five minutes had passed and the pair had found comfort on a mess of cushions and pillows on the floor. They lay away from each other, their heads resting together in the middle of their makeshift mattress.  
Stiles was sprawled out with his mouth hanging open in awe. He had listened with full, rapt attention as Lydia explained how girls bodies worked, what they liked, what they didn’t like - what she liked, what she loved.   
“He just wasn’t doing it for me’’, she sighed, “After four hours of trying and poking and prodding, we gave up’’, Lydia shuddered, “It’s been like that with the last few guys I’ve dated and I don’t know - maybe it’s me’’. She pouted at the ceiling before filling her mouth with gummy worms. “I can’t believe you were going to confiscate these from me, you terrible person’’.

“I would never take your gummy worms away from you, I’m not stupid or suicidal…’’ Stiles smirked as let out a muffled sound of protest which he decided to ignore.  
“Well, I don’t know what to say Lydia - you’re not telling this to the guy with a lot of sexual experience…’’  
“What about you and Malia?’’  
Stiles winced and felt, rather than heard, her chuckle beside him.  
He stifled his own grin and blocked out the memories of falling off of beds and scratch marks that went past kinky and way into ‘holy shit my girlfriend really does have claws territory’.  
“Let’s call Malia a learning curve, shall we?’’  
Lydia laughed and blindly offered the boy a gummy worm, letting it drop awkwardly onto his cheek before he opened his lips for her.  
“Woah, a red one - someone’s feeling generous tonight’’.  
“Shit, I thought that was an orange one!’’  
“You’re a horrific friend’’.  
Lydia cackled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think so far!


	3. Chapter Three

“What’re you thinking about?’’ Lydia mused, turning her head in time to see Stiles place the last gummy worm on her arm.  
She smiled and dropped it into her mouth happily.  
“Whether my dad would notice if we built a fort in here’’.  
“I think he would”.  
“You’d be surprised… he’s pretty out of it when he gets in from the night shift’’. Stiles shuffled on their pillow mattress, the living room floor becoming slightly uncomfortable. He rolled onto his side, facing the girl and getting a face full of auburn hair.  
He blew stray strands out of his way as he asked in turn, “What’re you thinking about?’’  
“That time we kissed’’.  
The girl didn’t take her eyes off of the ceiling as the words slipped through her ruby lips without hesitation.  
Stiles stilled for a moment, shifting once more out of nerves and anticipation. He liked his lips and shuffled closer, ever so slightly. The empty bottle of vodka slipped from between the pillows and rolled to the floor.  
‘’Yeah?’’His voice was quiet.  
Lydia nodded, a small smile etched onto her lips as she finally turned her head to face him. Their eyes met and neither dared to look away.  
“What’re you thinking about that for?’’ Nerves disappeared from the boys voice and instead his question was full of honest curiosity.  
Lydia let out a breath that washed over his face and fell upon his parted lips. She was a deadly mix of vodka, strawberries and cherry gummy worms.  
He was intoxicated - and the alcohol was just the beginning of it.  
“I was thinking about doing it again’’, Lydia’s eyes were as big and wide as ever, except now they were full of hope, curiosity and lust - an emotion that Stiles had only seen a few times before.

“You want to kiss me again? You want us to kiss like last time in-’’  
“Actually, I was hoping that maybe this time, you would kiss me’’.   
It wasn’t a question, it was a statement - a confession that fell from Lydia’s lips and graced Stiles’ ears like a prayer.   
He didn’t need much time to process her words, he had made his decision quickly and thanks to his vodka warmed brain, he didn’t think too much about the consequences of her words and his actions.  
Despite his fast resolution, his movements were slow and precise - almost calculated - as he raised one hand to her face.  
They still lay parallel to one another, his lips to her eyes and her forehead to his chin. He moved slightly, reaching her lips and curling into her. His long fingers knotted their way into her loose curls of hair and his nervous breath ghosted across her lips. She held her own as their noses brushed, his fingers tracing patterns into her neck.

His lips found her cheekbone and she sighed.

They trailed electricity across her jaw and she whimpered.

He reached her lips with his own and in the sweetest moment, the grazed each other tortuously. Stiles hesitated, pausing beside her, holding himself back until he knew that she wanted this too.  
Lydia made a noise of quiet protest and nudged his top lip with the tip of nose. Stiles placed a kiss there.  
His thumb stroked gently in the spot underneath her earlobe. She melted, falling into him and grasping the material of his shirt in her hands - waiting impatiently and preparing for the sensations about to come.

Liquid gold looked back at her as she stared into Stiles’ eyes with complete awe and wonder, her body unable to hold back all the emotions she felt. Impatience, frustration, excitement - lust.   
Lydia was on the edge of murmuring ‘’please’’ and she parted her lips to speak. In that moment, Stiles placed his lips on her own, his bottom lip melting in between hers in a strange and wonderful angle that she had never experienced.  
She gasped into his mouth and he took the opportunity to run his tongue along her full, bottom lip.

Lydia had never loved the sound of her own name so much until she discovered what it sounded like when mixed with the moans of Stiles Stilinski.  
He whispered it into her parted lips like a prayer and a curse and he cupped her face as he kissed her like he would lose her forever if he let go.  
The kiss went from new and exciting to frustrating and too much in a matter of minutes. With a muttered ‘fuck’, Lydia parted from the boy with immediate regret. She sat up and exhaled heavily, watching as the boy scrambled up from the floor to face her.  
His lips were swollen from her own and his shirt had creases from where she had been grabbing at him, pulling him closer than possible.

Stiles ran a hand through his hair, his heart hammering in his chest as he watched the girl and wondered if he had went too far.  
Her hair was a disaster and he adored it. Her full lips were puffy from his kisses and her eyes were wild as they looked at him with unanswered questions and new emotions.  
Before Stiles could ask with dejection and worry, if he had done something wrong; Lydia crawled over to him, clambering into his lap with as much grace as she could and placed her lips firmly back onto his.  
Stiles groaned into her lips, her fingers and nails doing wonderful things to the nape of his neck.   
“Shit, Lydia, is this okay?’’  
“It’s very much ‘okay’, Stiles’’, her voice was breathy and hoarse - and she murmured her confirmation between his lips and he crushed his own to hers.  
Between kisses and moans, the boy continued to speak - his mind full of questions that needed answered.  
“Lydia, mmm, should we be doing this? Are we drunk?’’  
The girl let her head drop back in response, allowing his hungry lips to place kisses there.  
“We are drunk. But it’s Valentines Day and we’re together and we’re special friends and… oh God, I want this’’.  
“I want this too’’.

Stiles fell back into the sofa, the girl still straddling his lap and for the first time, he allowed himself to take in the marvelous sight before him.  
Lydia was a nine hundred, thousand word novel and cinematic masterpiece. She was a breathtaking photograph and a dream brought to life.She was a strawberry blonde galaxy, the brightest star and she was the delicate piece of string that kept him grounded in this fucked up world.  
And she was sat before him in his lacrosse jersey, looking like sin and waiting for his lips to meet hers.

“Special friends, huh?” He breathed into the night air as the girl nipped at his jaw.  
Lydia nodded, her eyes sincere as their noses nuzzled each others and she leant forward - their foreheads touching.  
She let out a shaky breath as Stiles gazed at her from his close proximity. Lydia shifted in anticipation of what the night was going to bring them and she bit her lip at the sensation of his denim jeans underneath her bare thighs.  
She closed her eyes as she lent into the boy further - his familiar scent, his comforting warmth, surrounding her.  
Their lips brushed as she spoke, the electricity of the new sensations sending her body into high alert. She was drunk on Stiles, his kisses tasted of vodka and his teeth nipped at her bottom lip tortuously.  
“We’re really special friends, Stiles, aren’t we?’’ Lydia asked, her voice a murmur and full of questioning and doubt.  
The boy nodded and groaned as she found his hands with her own smaller ones, placing his rough palms on the bare skin of her thighs.  
Stiles’ voice was hoarse as he agreed with her, “I wouldn’t be doing this with any of my other friends’’.  
She chuckled through a moan that threatened to slip out as Stiles hands mapped out the insides of her thighs. Her porcelain skin was smooth and was spread out like a wonderland on top of the boys lap.  
“Only me, Stiles?’’  
“Only you, Lydia’’.

Their lips crushed together with an urgency that had renewed itself from before. Her hands found their way to his face and Lydia marveled at the feeling of rough stubble there. Her thumbs rubbed tender circles on his cheeks - her mind flashing back to kisses of before. She was drowning in him and the only way to breath was to pull away.   
She didn’t - and when Stiles’ arms wrapped their around her waist to pull her closer she could only kiss him deeper.  
The boy was delirious from her lips that tasted like cherries and left him speechless. His hands trailed their way from her legs to her tiny waist that was hidden beneath the mass of his jersey. He pulled her closer to him than he ever thought would be possible - lips met lips and chests were crushed together.   
She ground herself down onto this lap in a way that Stiles was sure was illegal and the boy could only moan into her parted lips - he had no sense to still her, to ask himself what the situation would be like tomorrow when they were sober.

His hands roamed from their safe place on her waist and back down to her legs. Her skin called to him and Lydia curled into him at his touch.  
When Stiles paused at the hem of his jersey, he let his fingers brush the material once, twice, before Lydia encouraged him with a subtle nod and wiggle of her hips.  
He cursed under his breath.

When his fingertips discovered the soft lace of her underwear, Lydia swore along with him. With shaking hands, he traced the outline along the tops of her thighs as if she were a painting.   
Stiles kisses slowed and he kissed her reverently, so soft and tenderly that Lydia was in awe of the boy underneath her. When she parted from him, his eyes were warm and liquid gold, gazing back at her with so many emotions that she struggled to place them all.  
He lent up to nuzzle her neck, placing kisses along her exposed skin as he continued to map his way across her underwear.   
The lace was thin underneath his curious fingers and he swore softly and the warmth that radiated from her.  
He felt a surge of pride and smugness as he mumbled into her skin, “Are you turned on, Lydia?’’  
Heat flooded her body at his words and Lydia wasn’t sure if it was because they came from Stiles - or because what it was true.  
She gasped as one single finger slipped beneath the band of delicate lace, skimming the crease of skin where her leg met her body. Her skin erupted in goosebumps.   
“Shit”, she hissed.

Being on top of Stiles was quickly becoming one of Lydia’s favourite places to be. He was both hard and soft beneath her, his chest was broad planes of muscle and his lips were gentle and pliant under her own.   
His hands were rough and so deliciously calloused from working on his jeep every weekend. He smelled like mint and fresh springs.   
She nodded, answering his question and feeling his lips stretch into a smile underneath her own.   
Their mouths brushed and they panted shamelessly into each other. Stiles continued his exploration of Lydia’s skin that was hidden beneath his hoody and the girl coaxed his mouth open with her own lips, her tongue seeking out his own.   
Her actions were met with a low groan, a rumble that resonated through his entire body and sent vibrations through her own.   
Stiles bit down gently on her full, bottom lip and she moaned into his mouth - their teeth clashing as their movements became more frantic.

"Stiles, please".   
"Please what?" The boy was almost breathless and his voice was strained as his best friend gyrated her hips impatiently on top of him.   
"I need…" Lydia’s words came out almost as a sob, a whisper so desperate that Stiles kissed her so softly, trying to soothe her frustrations.   
"You need to tell me, Lydia, please…"  
"Touch me, Stiles".   
The boy swallowed heavily and nodded slowly, his head falling into her shoulder as he placed haphazard kisses along her neck and jaw.   
Her words from before rang through him and self doubt crashed around in his mind like a tsunami. He was drowning in Lydia.

"You’ve, you need to - fuck, Lydia, stay still", Stiles gasped as pulled herself closer to him, the jersey she wore riding up her body and revealing the most sinister hint of lace that curved it’s way around her thighs.   
He grabbed her waist and held her still against him and the girl practically whimpered at the loss of his hand on her skin.   
Their foreheads touched as he lent into her, one hand holding her gently against him as the other made it’s way back to her bare thigh. Lydia’s eyes glowed in the dim light as he stared at her in wonder.   
When Stiles drew delicate circles into the skin below her underwear, they closed shut and she sighed.

The boys voice was low and hoarse as he murmured to her, his lips swollen from her kisses brushing her ear.   
She shivered against him.   
"I wanna make you feel good, Lydia".   
She nodded against his shoulder, her face hiding against his neck as her hands made fists in his tshirt. She was melting against him, her body almost liquid and her lips warm from his own.   
"You need to show me - I don’t wanna poke and prod at you like those other idiots…" He grinned when he felt her body shake with silent giggles at his words. She shook her head against him, her hair tickling his cheek as it became more wild and messy with each passing kiss they’d shared.   
She looked electric, dangerous and a complete goddess. Stiles tucked a curl behind her ear as she sat back up, her eyes and lips smiling back at him.   
“You won’t, trust me…’’  
“I feel like this is a ridiculous amount of pressure…’’  
Lydia grinned at the boy despite his almost sincere protests. Instead of responding to his doubts, she curled into him, her body molding to his perfectly. On instinct, her face found it’s resting place upon his shoulder, her long lashes brushing against his neck as her lips placed gentle, soothing kisses.  
Stiles’ arm held her to him, the fabric of his lacrosse jersey bunched in his hand. The other hand, the hand that was already pressed against her thigh was taken in Lydia’s own grasp. She intertwined their fingers and they both released breaths filled with nerves and anticipation.  
She placed their joint hands between her long legs and Stiles swore at the sensation. She was warm and the lace of her underwear was damp with excitement. Stiles’ hips shifted in reaction to the feeling and Lydia moaned quietly into his ear.

She took her hand away slowly, eventually placing it on the back of his neck and playing with the longer hairs that curled at the back. He lent into her touch, his nose nudging at her cheek until she turned to him and he captured her lips with his own.  
This kiss was different from the rest. It was full of purpose, promises and curiosity. It was tongues and teeth and lips and hands.   
Stiles kissed her with the same determination she had kissed him with in the boys locker room. And it took her breath away.

His touch lingered on the band of her underwear before he swore into her swollen lips and gave a gentle tug. It was a question and a leap of faith rolled into one.   
Lydia pulled away only slightly, her eyes hooded and a dark emerald green as she gazed back at the boy. Stiles quirked an eyebrow at her.  
“Special friends do this right?’’  
Lydia nodded, her lips closing and opening as she searched for the words to use. She couldn’t find any - and when she looked back at the swollen, pink mouth of Stiles Stilinski, she realized where she had lost them.  
The girl stood suddenly and Stiles hands fell away from her body. She missed them instantly. Standing tall above him left Lydia feeling utterly exposed. As she looked down, she saw the same boy she had ordered pizza with hours before, looking back up.   
And he gazed at her with adoration and lust and anticipation and nerves. All the emotions she expected to find in a horny, teenage boys eyes and then some more, that she did not.  
With heavy eyes and shaking breaths, her hands delved into her mane of hair and pulled roughly at the band that held it on top of her head. It fell free, wild and strawberry blonde. It curled down to her waist as clashed horribly with the maroon jersey she wore.  
Stiles smiled fondly.  
Then her hands disappeared under the mountain of the same fabric. When they came back into Stiles’ line of sight, black lace trailed along with them like liquid sin. They dropped to the floor like a bomb and so did Lydia.

She fell into him, pushing and pulling at his welcoming lips with her own as she mumbled to him.  
“I want this”.  
“I need this”.  
“I trust you”.  
“Special friends…”  
“Special friends do this all the time”.  
“Stiles, please…”  
The last word on her lips was stolen from her with a stutter and a gasp before her moan was silenced with hot lips and talented fingers.  
His hand wrapped around her tiny waist, holding her to him as he navigated his way through the abundance of over sized jersey fabric.  
The other cupped her and he marveled in the warmth he discovered under the tauntingly thin lace. Stiles groaned into her parted lips and smiled as she moaned back.   
His fingers stroked over her sensitive skin and he listened in awe at the sounds he was emitting from her.  
Her small hands fisted in his shirt, grabbed at his hair - her breath short and kisses clumsy on his neck and collarbone.  
She wriggled in his grasp and Stiles forehead met her own with a soft thud as his eyes squeezed closed and he openly moaned her name. She almost sobbed at the sound.   
When Lydia lifted her hands and held his face to hers, the boy’s eyes reopened and the intensity in them made Lydia still.   
The room was silent as Stiles rubbed circles into her soft skin, her lips pouted and parted as they almost, but not quite, grazed his own.   
He nuzzled into her, their noses brushing, their lips seeking out each others.

The boy shifted slightly on the floor, holding Lydia on his lap as his fingers danced across her wetness with more determination.  
“Let go, Lydia’’.  
She cried out into his neck, her body falling into his for the countless time that night. She groaned his name like a curse and a prayer as his finger slipped inside of her.  
She was desperate for him and her hands roamed across his lean frame over and over, her greedy hands unable to settle on a place to hold, to grab, to tether herself to.  
Lydia was floating, and Stiles Stilinski was the one holding onto her by the tiniest piece of string.  
“C’mon sweetheart…’’  
The string snapped and she saw red. Pure bliss, fireworks, the smell of mint, the rough hand on the delicate curve of her waist. Long, curious fingers curling into her, pulling tidal waves of utter ecstasy from her body.  
Quiet murmurs, silent smiles, eyes filled with awe. Kisses filled with pleasure, exhaustion and surprise.  
Stiles.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a short chapter, but, I felt that it was a necessary little filler.  
> I’m still unsure about the mature content in this storyline as I’ve never wrote smut before. All messages and feedback are appreciated!

Stiles waited Lydia’s breath calmed. He waited patiently, with the girl curled around his body as he held her to him on his lap. One hand ran soothing fingers through her curls and the other stroked the overly sensitive skin on the inside of her leg - bringing her down from her high. She mewled softly into his chest and he smiled.   
Lydia was exhausted and at that moment in time, she reminded Stiles of a little kitten. She was adorable.  
The girl clutched at the front of his shirt, her chest still heaving and her eyes closed as the last of the fireworks faded from the inside of her eyelids.   
She eventually calmed, her body completely sinking into the boy’s.

“Happy Valentine’s day’’.  
Lydia let out a breathy laugh at his words and marveled at the events that just unfolded. She was no longer as drunk as she had been, in fact, her mind was crystal clear. When her head eventually lifted and she looked into Stiles’ eyes, she could see that the effects of the alcohol had worn off on him too. 

She made a noise of agreement and brushed her lips across his own, gently, reverently.  
Their noses bumped, their foreheads touched and when Lydia hesitantly reach for the button Stiles’ jeans, his hand left their place on her waist and stopped her own.   
He intertwined them instead, bringing each of her small hands up to his lips to place a kiss on each knuckle.  
Lydia raised her eyebrows questioningly at him, hurt and rejection slowly seeping into her features. Stiles panicked slightly, quickly shaking his head before he could get the correct words to leave his mouth.  
“No, god no, Lydia - I don’t mean like that!’’  
“But-’’ The girl began to protest but Stiles silenced her with another whisper soft kiss. His lips gently trailed from her lips, to her jaw, across her cheek before landing on her temple.

“I wanted to, uhm, do that for you because of just that - I wanted to”, Stiles swallowed heavily, his eyes wide as she gazed at her whilst he spoke, “I didn’t expect anything in return’’.  
Lydia smiled, her eyes softening as she gazed down at the boy from her spot of his lap. Her hands tightened her grip in his own and she gazed down at them before looking back up through her lashes.  
Lydia Martin was almost speechless, her was coy and shy. It was something she had never experienced before under the gentle and coaxing hands of a boy.  
Not just any boy, either.

“I want to help you too, you know”, her voice was low and gravelly, full of sex and sin, “I want to make you feel good too, Stiles’’.  
The girl threw his own words back at him and Stiles felt them like a punch in the chest. He was hard beneath her and he shifted on instinct, his hips arching upwards and into her sensitive center.

She gasped, her head rolling forward until it met his own, their breaths mixing together as they gasped desperately for each others oxygen.  
They were back to square one.   
Stiles bit his lip and practically growled from within his chest, but when he caught a glimpse of the clock that sat on the fireplace behind Lydia, he groaned with defeat.  
02.10am.  
“My dad is going to be back any minute”.  
“Shit!”  
Despite the tension filled situation, Stiles let out a laugh as he watched Lydia practically roll backwards off of his knee, her bare legs flailing before she righted herself and searched the floor frantically for her underwear.  
“Why can’t I find my - oh’’, Lydia blushed a new shade of pink as she took the scrap of black lace that was hooked from Stiles’ outstretched finger.  
She took them with a coy smile and Stiles grinned, turning away and beginning the task of clearing pizza boxes as the girl slipped both her underwear and jeans back on.

Stiles watched as Lydia quickly gathered up the mass of mismatching pillows from the floor and place them back in their rightful places. He smiled, and walked into the kitchen, empty pizza boxes and half full glasses balanced in his hands.  
He dumped the boxes in the trash before placing the cups in the sink with a dull clang. He braced himself on the worktop, his eyes closing and the breath he had been holding flood from his lungs.  
He smiled into the dark room and shook his head in disbelief. Stiles was in awe. He still felt the warmth of the girl around his body, her hands in his hair, her breaths and moans in his ear, the movement of her hips against his own…  
“Fuuuu-”, Stiles stood up quickly, rubbing his hands across his face fiercely as if to clear the memory from his head.  
As if he could.

After gulping down three glasses of cold water, he filled the cup once more and took it back into the living room where Lydia was waiting.  
He handed the cup to her with a smile and she accepted it with her own. She wore his jersey still and Stiles decided he no longer had any need for it except to see Lydia in it.  
“Bed?”  
The girl nodded from behind her glass and took Stiles’ outstretched hand without hesitation and let the boy lead her up to his forever familiar bedroom.  
She sat on his bed with a happy sigh and watched as he padded around the room. After rummaging through his drawers for several minutes, he produced a t-shirt that was deemed clean and handed it to Lydia.  
“This okay to sleep in?’’  
“Of course’’, Lydia smiled, taking it from his hand. She lent up on her tiptoes, brushing another kiss across his cheek - the memories of downstairs still very much present within her actions.   
“You should probably be able to run to the bathroom and back before my dad gets in…’’

Lydia rolled her eyes at the boy’s words and responded by turning away from him and dragging her jeans down her legs for the second time that night.  
She heard him stutter through his breath.  
“Or you could get changed here’’, he coughed, “It’s not a problem’’.  
The girl clutched the hem of the heavy jersey she wore and carefully pulled it up and off of her body. Her white shirt came with it - revealing smooth, porcelain skin and more black lace. Her hair fell like a waterfall of fire down her back.  
A thump and a muttered “fuck” came from behind her Lydia giggled. She looked over her shoulder at Stiles to see him pick up books that had fallen from his desk as he stumbled into it. He grinned at her, giving a small wave.  
Lydia shook her head and picked up the t-shirt from the bed, pulling it over her body until it reached her knees.

By the time the two of them had crawled into bed, the front door opened and closed again. The sheriff’s heavy footsteps climbed the stairs and his bedroom door closed across the hall with finality.  
The pair let out the breath that they had been holding.

After being on top of Stiles’ lap, Stiles’ bed was the second most favourite place that Lydia liked to be. It smelled just like him and she found more comfort and soundless sleeps in it than her own.  
She stretched out her body alongside his own taller one before curling back into herself, her back to Stiles.  
Minutes passed before she peeked over shoulder at him. He was still awake, his eyes sparkling back at her through the darkness. She could just feel his warmth breath fall on the back of her neck.  
“Come cuddle”.  
It wasn’t a question she had asked him, it was a statement and it was granting permission to the silent doubts he had in his head.  
Stiles smiled at her knowing smirk and his arms sought her out in the mass of covers. They curled round her all too familiar waist and for the countless time that night, he was in awe of how small she felt against him.  
Stiles pulled her gently across the mattress as she contained her giggles between pursed lips. He didn’t stop until her back was against his bare chest and he felt, rather than heard, the sharp intake of breath from her.

His arm settled around her waist and he was almost surprised when her own little hand covered his own, her fingers slipping between his. He curled round her, their legs intertwining and he buried his face in her wild curls.  
They mumbled their ‘good nights’ to each other and Stiles was almost asleep when he felt Lydia lift their joined hands to her lips and place a kiss on each of his knuckles, just as he had done to hers before.


	5. Chapter Five

It was 7.46am when Sheriff Stilinski was getting ready to leave for work on Monday morning. He stood at the front door, trying to grip his morning paper between his teeth as he shrugged his jacket on.  
It was 7.47am when he seen a strawberry blonde creep across the top landing of his home, her bare feet tiptoeing across the carpet before she disappeared into the bathroom.  
Bewildered, he picked up his coffee canteen and stepped out into the February frost. It was 7.56am by the time the cruiser had warmed up and he had decided to not mention Lydia’s staying over to his son.  
He knew that watching them work out whatever was going on between them would be far too hilarious to miss.

Lydia unlocked and opened the bathroom door as softly as she possibly could, peeking round the door to ensure the Sheriff would not be walking around.  
When she heard the car roll out of the driveway, she released the breath that she had been holding and dashed back to Stiles’ room.  
She clicked the door closed behind her and squinted into the dim light. The morning sun shone through the slatted blinds and cast rows of light all around the room. Flecks of dust sparkled in the rays.   
The girl leaned against the doorframe, her eyes cast downwards to watch the sleeping boy before her.

She bit her lip, running a hand through her mane of curls. The hem of Stiles’ t-shirt brushed her thighs and she sighed. Stiles lay in bed, his head hidden in a pile of pillows, his bare back warming in the sun.

Lydia observed him as he stirred in bed, the muscles in his back rippling. Lydia bit down harder on her lip and took a tentative step towards the bed.  
The wooden floorboards were cool under her bare feet. She shivered.  
The bed dipped under her slight weight and she held her breath as Stiles moved under the sheets and turned towards her. His sleep heavy eyes peered up at her and he smiled warmly.

Morning Stiles was gorgeous, Lydia thought. His eyes were chocolate and his hair was adorably mussed. He licked his pouty lips and stretched himself out. His arms went taught as they rose above his head. The sheets slipped to reveal more lean muscles, tanned skin and dustings of hidden moles that Lydia had never discovered before.  
“Hey”.  
Lydia was sure she was blushing, she could feel the heat on her cheek, creeping down to her chest, her smile was flustered and nervously, she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.  
“Hi”.

Stiles only hesitated for a second before he reached a hand out and brushed his knuckles along the girl’s forearm. He left goosebumps in his wake and it didn’t escape his notice.  
“We’re going to be late for school…’’  
Stiles groaned at the horrible reminder that today was Monday. He groaned and let himself fall forward, his head almost in Lydia’s lap. She stilled at the contact before allowing herself to run her fingers through his unruly hair.  
Stiles hummed happily and then the pair fell into an almost, but not entirely, uncomfortable silence.

“Lydia, last night…”  
“Stiles”.  
The boy stopped, rolling over until he faced upwards. He was greeted by big, hazel eyes - specks of green turning to emerald in the morning sunlight. Her long lashes fascinated him.   
The boy watched as Lydia pressed her lips together before smiling down at him almost shyly.  
“…Stiles, last night was - last night, you…’’, She bit back a grin before nodding slowly and letting a small laugh slip out, “Last night was really, really something. Yeah… Wow’’ She laughed again and Stiles grinned up at her.  
He raised his eyebrows at her and smirked, his hair sticking up in all directions. Lydia thought he looked irresistible. She bit down her lip once more.  
“What are special friends for?’’  
Lydia shook her head with a smile trying not to roll her eyes and encourage the boy further. She placed as quick kiss on her friends forehead and jumped off of the mattress, letting Stiles’ head fall onto the bed in the process.  
“You need to get up!”  
“I take it I’m giving you a lift to school?’’ Stiles rolled out of bed stumbling sleepily as he searched the floor for last night’s discarded t-shirt.   
He smiled as he watched Lydia collect it from his desk chair and hold it out to him. She pulled it away from his outstretched hand and smirked, letting her usual bravado return as her eyes skimmed across his bare chest. He tensed under her stare, his abdominal muscles tightening.  
Lydia tilted her head to the side, gazing up at him. She dropped the shirt to the floor.  
“You don’t need that yet”.  
Stiles head dropped to the side and he let out a breathy lap, his bare chest brushing against Lydia’s smaller body as he left the room with a wink and headed to shower.

“Urgh, are you sure we don’t have time to drop by mine before class?’’  
“Lydia, we’re already running late…’’ Stiles frowned as he backed carefully out of the drive, glancing down at the girls skinny jeans quickly, “You look perfect as always, I don’t know why you want to change so badly”.  
Lydia’s lips pursed as she tried to not smile at the compliment, instead focusing on the problem at hand.  
“You know I only wear jeans around you - no one else!’’ She also ignored Stiles’ smug smile as they headed towards town, “And! And I don’t have heels with me either!” She sighed heavily - over dramatically - and let her head drop against the rain streaked window.  
Stiles laughed, as she expected.   
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with what you’re wearing. I’d be more concerned that you forgot your Bio essay that’s due today…”  
She waved a hand dismissively, “I’ll write it up again during my free period - I remember the majority of it”.  
“Of course you do”.

When Stiles pulled up to school, he killed the engine and turned to Lydia with curious eyes. Lydia glanced at him sideways, her mouth curling into a small smile as she waited for the words that she knew were coming.  
“Lydia… last night. What - where does that put us now?” Stiles squinted, his hand grabbing at his hair awkwardly.   
Lydia struggled to form the words she wished she could say easily. Emotions were not her strong point. She had developed over the years, she was able to open up more - to her friends, to Stiles.  
So when she turned to the boy, it was with wide, honest eyes and a reassuring smile.  
“Stiles, she took his worrying hand away from his poor hair, holding it in her own. She intertwined their fingers in a way that was familiar yet it took her back to last nights new events. Her breath hitched.

“Special friends, right?”  
Stiles frowned over that phrase that he had heard so much over the last twenty four hours.  
“Like… friends with benefits or something?”  
“No!” Lydia scowled at him, her fingers tightening around his own larger ones, “It’s not like that. Last night - last night wasn’t like that”.  
She sighed, trying to find the best words to explain.  
“I wouldn’t do that with just anyone Stiles”, she frowned at the floor, “Not anymore, not after Jackson and everything…”  
Lydia trailed off at the mention of the ex she hardly ever spoke about. Stiles fingertips danced across her palm, reassuring strokes and encouraging circles.  
His voice was quiet as he murmured, “I know that Lydia”.  
“I wouldn’t do that with any other friend either… not Scott or Isaac or Adien -’’  
She was cut off by Stiles annoyed grunt and she smiled as he grimaced at her.   
“Just you Stiles - that’s why it was special”.

Stiles nodded slowly processing the information, his lips pursed and his chocolate eyes warm as he gazed over at her. He never expected the events of last night to a regular occurrence, he didn’t think that Lydia would be making out with him during study sessions - he was simply elated to hear that Lydia trusted him like that.  
“I think I like being your special friend, Lydia”, the girl laughed and he grinned in return.


	6. Chapter Six

Scott stood at his locker that morning, the hum of chattering students filling his head with faceless conversations. He frowned as attempted to squeeze the last of his books into the small shelves, his attention slightly unfocused.  
When the familiar scent of his best friends aftershave and hair product surround him, he muttered a greeting without turning round.  
“Alright, bro?’’  
“Now I’m a ‘bro’? That’s a new one…’’  
The alpha frowned and turned his head quickly. He saw no one until his eye line dropped by almost a foot and he noticed Lydia standing before him.  
She smiled warmly, an eyebrow quirked at his unusual greeting. 

Scott smiled back but a confused look fell across his features. He sniffed the air again, wondering if he was extra tired that Monday morning. As Lydia shook her head and took his books off of him, he watched her rearrange his locker until the fit neatly. No, he was sure he had smelt Stiles scent. In fact, Lydia’s signature perfume was practically masked by it.  
“Lydia…’’  
The banshee turned round, eyebrows raised in question as Scott peered down at her with curious eyes, “yes, Scott?’’  
“Why are you covered in Stiles’ scent?’’

Lydia’s eyes went wide and she could feel the heat creep up the back of her neck. Her mouth opened and then closed. She pursed her lips, her brain thinking too much, too fast. Scott stood before her, waiting for an answer. She opened her lips once more and instead of speaking, she brought her fist down onto Scott’s arm in a friendly, boyish manner.  
He chuckled, still extremely confused and without an answer to his question.

Scott closed his locker, still looking at the girl who refused to meet his gaze. But before he could ask the question again, Isaac jogged up to them, lacrosse stick in hand as he slapped Scott on the back.  
“Dude, coach wants everyone in the locker rooms for a talk before practice”, he turned to Lydia to smile and wave cheerily in greeting, “Has anyone seen Stiles arou-’’.  
The boy’s words fell to a dead halt as he slowly turned his body and attention away from the other werewolf and faced Lydia.  
Her eyes were lowered and she was currently inspecting the floor with extreme interest.  
Five pieces of gum, two pens and someone’s long lost earring.

“Why do you smell like Stiles?’’  
“Oh my god, is this the Spanish Inquisition?!’’ The girl burst out dramatically, her huffing and flailing arms causing Scott and Isaac to step back and out of the way of danger.  
She grabbed her handbag of off the floor, pushing her way between the two taller boys, who wisely let her through without another word.  
Lydia stalked down the hall, passing Allison and Kira on the way to the library.  
Her best friend called out to her with an easy smile, “Lydia! Since when did you wear jeans?’’   
Lydia rushed by her, flustered and still blushing. Waving quickly and trying to tame her hair that was getting wilder by the second.  
“Since I spend the night at my male best friend’s on Valentines day… who knew, huh?’’  
Her words were hissed and rushed, tumbling out of her lips in a mumble as she scurried by the two girls with ridiculously wide eyes that held nothing but panic.   
Kira and Allison shared a glance, both standing in silence as their friend’s words registered with them.  
“She meant Stiles, right?’’ Kira squinted at Allison in confusion, her excited smile slowly growing. A squeal was threatening to erupt and she tried in vain to not clap her hands.  
Allison nodded slowly, her mouth still parted in surprise and her eyes following her friends frantically retreating figure through the glass doors ahead of them.   
“We should definitely follow her…”   
Kira couldn’t have agreed more as Allison grabbed her hand and they set off in search for the answers that everyone wanted that morning.

Lydia was trying different breathing techniques as her forehead became best friend’s with the cool wood of the library desk.  
‘In through the nose, out through the mouth… slowly. Sloooowly… Deep breaths’.  
She sat slumped across the table, repeating the mantra in her head. She was freaked, she was panicked and she felt out of control. Lydia Martin, did not lose control. Ever.  
As soon as Scott’s word had left his lips at the lockers, several things flooded her mind:  
One, why hadn’t she and Stiles realized that two of their best friends had superhero sense and they would be able to pick on the fact she had spent the night in his bed- surrounded by nothing but his scent.  
Two, she had probably made things worse by the way she reacted. She groaned and fought the urge to slam her head against the table.  
Three, since watching Stiles walk away from her to see his Bio teacher at the main doors, she could not get last night out of her mind. She groaned once more, her stomach and probably five other important organs fluttering against her rib cage.   
This time, she really did let her drop onto the table with a dull thump - and that’s how Allison and Kira found her.

The bell was ringing for second period as Lydia finished convincing her friends that her and Stiles spent the night watching movies and eating pizza. Which was true, she told herself.  
She told Allison with a strong smile that she cancelled her date with Matthew because he drove a Prius and wanted one too many cats. Which really wasn’t true.  
Kira snorted and Allison rolled her eyes.  
By the time the trio had reached their classes for the hour, Lydia had controlled her previously frantic breathing and explained how she had crashed out on Stiles’ bed after playing Mario Kart and Stiles had taken the couch like a gentleman.   
Which really, really wasn’t true. At all.  
Her own words resonated in her head and her skin prickled with heat. Like a gentleman.  
A gentleman with rough hands, talented fingers and lips that tasted like vodka, gummy worms and dirty words.  
She almost choked on her goodbye as her friends left her outside her maths class with placated smiles. Lydia’s thoughts were ruining her.

Stiles rushed into the locker room, throwing his bag on an empty bench as he ripped off his t-shirt. With the material bunched around his head, he was temporarily blind as he attempted to seek out his lacrosse jersey.  
“Looking for your jersey?’’  
Scott’s amused voice floated from behind him and when he yanked off his shirt, he cursed as Isaac stood in front of him, grinning from ear to ear.  
“Wassup, human?’’

Stiles pulled a face at his friend, turning and meeting Scott’s fist bump with his own as he continued to search through his locker and bag.  
Isaac could barely keep the laughter out of his voice as he asked once more, “looking for your lacrosse jersey, Stiles?’’  
Stiles’ head popped out of his locker, his eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly open.  
“Huh? Yeah… yeah I am, did it fall out of my bag or something?’’  
Scott smiled with excited eyes as he gave the boy a friendly shove to his shoulder.  
“Sure you didn’t leave it at home?’’  
Isaac stepped beside him, his lips curled into a smirk, “Yeah, Stiles, leave it at home?’’  
Stiles pondered their words for a moment, his mind still clouded by sleep and his morning lecture from his bio teacher. Turns out quoting “The Bloodhound Gang” in answer to the reproduction system was neither correct nor appropriate.   
Who knew?

“Did I leave it at home…?’’ Stiles’ brow furrowed as he thought back to packing his bag this morning. His thoughts were interrupted as Isaac slung an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him into a playful headlock.  
“Maybe it’s lying on the floor, on your desk chair, where Lydia left it after she took it off this morning…’’  
Stiles practically choked on his own breath as Isaac’s words tumbled out of his grinning lips.  
“Wha-?!’’  
His words went unheard as he managed to struggle his way out of Isaac’s grip, holding out his hands in a vain attempt to calm his friends down.  
It didn’t work.  
The werewolves acted like giant puppies as they danced around him in the locker room, their actions ignored by the rest of the sleep deprived team.  
Hands reached out to ruffle his hair, shake his shoulder and, weirdly, pinch his cheeks. The boy slapped their hands away with a scowl.  
“Lydia was not wearing my lacrosse jers - what?’’, he let out a breathy laugh that fell upon deaf ears, “What? Why, why would you even think that?’’

“Dude, she strolls up to school this morning wearing jeans that everyone knows she only wear when she hangs at yours… she smells like nothing but you and we’re super smart werewolves who can actually smell the material off of her…’’ Scott trailed off quietly, his hands fiddling with his lacrosse stick awkwardly. He hated to show off, “So, yeah…’’  
“You, dog, you!’’ Isaac interrupted with a cackle and Scott sighed, rolling his eyes.  
Stiles stood still, his mouth hanging open as he processed the large amount of information he had just received.   
He had serious damage control to do.

Stiles was sweating and out of breath as he finished telling Scott and Isaac that Lydia had came over to his to watch some movies and hang out. They squinted at him dubiously.   
“On Valentine’s Day?’’ Scott asked, unconvinced.  
Stiles launched the ball back to Danny at the other end of the field. Sighing heavily, he wrenched his helmet off and chucked it to the ground. Coaches whistles rang angrily from the bleachers, signalling the end of practice.  
“Yeah, she wasn’t into that dude she had been dating - said he was a douche’’, Stiles smirked smugly at his own choice of words.  
Isaac and Scott shared a look before glancing back to Stiles.  
“We don’t have to deal with him, do we?’’ Scott asked protectively as Isaac stood behind him, making clawing motions in the air to demonstrate the alpha’s meaning.  
Stiles was almost ashamed to say he considered the offer for a moment before shaking his head casually.  
“Nah, he’s a harmless douche’’.

The guys showered in a rush, their hair still damp as they crammed their uniforms back into their lockers as they began to split off to reach their next classes.  
“So to sum it up, you and Lydia hung out, had pizza and she just crashed at yours after?’’ Scott asked his friend.  
Stiles nodded furiously, struggling to keep his hair out of his eyes as he avoided giggling freshman in the corridor, “That is all totally true”.  
“So, nothing happened?” Isaac implored with raised eyebrows.  
Stiles didn’t trust his voice to answer the last question, so instead, he bit down on his bottom lip and shook his head no once more, quickly shuffling away from the two wolves and towards his next class.  
Maths.

Lydia was sitting in the half empty classroom, re-reading the chapter they had studied the week before. Quadratic formula’s swam before her eyes but only skimmed the surface of her mind. She was distracted.  
The class slowly began to fill up as students milled in through the doorway. The banshee tried not to scowl as Malia bounded in and dropped herself into the seat in front of her.   
“Hi, Lydia!’’  
‘Good god she was like a puppy’, Lydia thought. Instead, she sighed quietly and smiled, murmuring a quiet ‘hello’ in return.  
Minutes had passed as people chattered around her, the doodles she had started in the corner of her notebook began to fill up her page and she frowned at the scribbles. Lydia Martin did not doodle. She took notes.

Stiles screeched to halt in front of the open door, scowling at Liam as he jogged by with his freshman friends and aimed a balled up piece of paper at his head.  
He paused at the door, ignored by oblivious students who chatted to their friends and got their last fix of social media before the teacher arrived.  
He smiled as his eyes automatically fell to the right of his empty chair. Lydia sat in her seat, her long hair draped around her like a curtain. She sat with her textbook already open, her favourite pen tapping against her full, pouting lips as she glared down at her notebook as if it had said something offensive.

He walked over to his seat, careful to ensure he didn’t rush and trip over his own feet. With success, he slipped into his chair quietly and undetected by an extremely distracted Lydia.  
He waved casually to Malia as he reached over and tapped Lydia’s arm. Her skin was warm under his hand.  
He murmured his ‘hello’ softly, his eyes trained on her long, strawberry hair - waiting for it to be swept out of her face and to be greeted by her warm, wide eyes.

“Hello”.  
Lydia almost jumped out of her chair, her heart hammering against her chest as she tore her attention away from her scribbles and was met with the sigh worthy smile of Stiles.  
He was watching her with curious eyes and she realized she hadn’t replied, seconds ticked by. His smile grew as her lips formed shapes but never allowed words to escape.  
“Good morning… again’’, she let out breathy sigh. ‘That should not have been that difficult’, she told herself.’  
Stiles laughed slightly, turning back into his seat and attempting to focus his attention on the front of the class as their teacher walked in.

Lydia closed her eyes, wondering when the taste of his lips would leave her own. Her brow furrowed as she mentally told herself she didn’t want it to.

Stiles sighed heavily as he ran his fingers through his messy hair, remembering the night before and how Lydia had done the same with her own tiny hands. Her gasps and moans flooded through his mind and his fingers twitched on his desk.   
He looked over at his friend, watching as her teeth grazed her bottom lip. He ran a hand over his face, almost groaning aloud as he caught her eye and she bit down harder, her eyes ablaze with emotions he had the honor of seeing last night.

Lust, want, need and desperation.


	7. Chapter Seven

The week passed with no supernatural occurrences and classes that numbed even Lydia’s mind. She was restless, on edge - and it had nothing to do with the usual dangers she felt. Valentines Day had rendered her incapable of functioning normally. Her thoughts, both in school and at home, were filled with her best friend’s lips. And hands, and fingers… and tongue.   
By the time Friday crawled by she was exhausted and snappy, her nights full of frustrated sighs and constant fidgeting. She had practically bludgeoned her pillows to death with furious little fists.

Her mood was not unnoticed by the rest of the pack and at lunchtime she felt as if her and Stiles were the center of attention. Usually, Lydia was a careful person. She thought about what she said before said it, she mulled over the consequences of any plan before acting upon it. Sometimes, she would sit for hours, picking out the perfect shade of nail polish to match her handbag.  
She was concise, wary and subtle with her words and ways. When it came to Stiles, her rule book was normally pushed to the side. After their special encounter, it had been torn up, made into confetti and scattered happily into the wind.  
So now, as she sat, leaning casually into his side and lunch, she tried to ignore the obvious stare that Allison burned into her from across the table. She picked at her sandwich with raised eyebrows as her friend coughed harshly and not so subtly - only stopping when Scott looked at her in alarm and patted her on the back.  
Lydia continued to study her food in front of her, feeling Stiles’ muscles shift under his shirt and against her side. He moved carefully, his usually frantic hand motions were minimized as he allowed Lydia to lean into him, her tired eyes not going unnoticed by his own.  
He spoke to Isaac about lacrosse practice and laughed with Scott, yet his full attention was focused on the strawberry blonde beside him.

It had been five days since he had held her, since he had kissed her. Five whole days since she fell apart in the most amazing way on his lap. Five days since he woke up in his bed beside her; her long, bare legs entangled with his own with her scent still clinging to him.  
They hadn’t spoken much more of it after Monday morning. They had continued their friendship as they usually would have. They laughed and joked, teased each other and brought the other their traditional Wednesday doughnuts during their free period.   
Everything was normal.

But then there was the touching. The touches and brushes that were more than what they were used to. More than what was considered to be friendly.  
Grazes and lingers that caught even Isaac’s blase attention. Looks and brushes that made Kira grin and Allison raise her eyebrows and smirk.  
Like right now.

Stiles’ breath was taken away from him as Lydia discarded her lunch and placed her hands beneath the table. She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt restlessly, her actions twitchy and her gaze lowered.   
He was about to ask her if everything was alright when she placed one hand on his knee, her touch casual. He held his breath.  
Looking round the table, he saw his friends continue their chatter and debates, no one seeming to be any wiser. Lydia herself seemed unaffected by the situation.   
Her hand stayed their for what seemed to be an eternity, unmoving and searing into his skin. They boy cleared his throat nervously, shifting ever so slightly in his seat. Lydia smiled and chanced a look at him from beneath her eyelashes. His eyes were unfocused, his head nodding slowly at something Isaac was telling him.   
The werewolf squinted at him, watching Stiles with an odd expression.

Lydia smiled and nodded attentively at the story Kira was sharing with Scott and herself. Her hand remained on Stiles’ knee, heat radiating through his jeans and searing her palm. She was on fire.  
The banshee was beyond restless and her body was screaming at her to move closer, to touch and taste and feel. She was on edge and unsure, never feeling this way before - never feeling such an urge to be near another person. Invisible strings kept her tethered to the boys side, pulling her into him and keeping her there.  
Not that she wanted to leave.

Her courage came from what seemed like nowhere as her hand went on an expedition across the rough denim that covered the boy’s leg. He shifted beneath her touch, his body tensing beside her. Her mind though back to the muscles on his back and stomach under her hands that night, his lips on her neck.  
She smiled across at Kira, her head balancing on one hand as she leaned on the tabletop. The other found it’s way to his thigh, his voice breaking as he told Danny how much his Chemistry test sucked. He broke the conversation, looking down at the girl beside him. She glanced back up with big, green eyes and they looked at each other like they were about to kiss.

He grew hard beneath her bold touch, their eyes still challenging each other in the crowded lunch hall and Lydia smiled at the boy’s reaction to her. Without another word, she rose from the table and happily said her goodbyes to the pack, telling Allison she would see her in class.  
When Kira asked where she was off to, the banshee called back over her shoulder, looking directly at Stiles.  
“Library’’.

It took only six and half minutes for Stiles to shamelessly jump up after her, hiding his obvious excitement behind his textbooks a he yelled ‘bye’ to his pack as an afterthought. He gave no explanation and left his confused friends shouting ‘friendly’ abuse after him.   
He was oblivious to it.

Navigating the unfamiliar rows of books in the library was the hardest part and Stiles was about to give up when he seen a familiar smile grinning at him from the most secluded row. He grinned, shaking his head as he walked towards her, moving his books casually and gesturing to his crotch with splayed hands.  
His arousal was obvious and the girl felt heat travel across her skin despite the humorous situation. Lydia muffled her laughter behind pursed lips. Her eyes sparkled at him from her perch on an old table. The library was quiet and the smell of old books surrounded them, muffling their voices.   
He stopped in front of her, watching her lips with his own smile.  
“You need to work on your social skills, Miss Martin, if you think that’s acceptable lunch manners…’’

Lydia titled her head back and laughed, he legs swinging freely from her perch on the table. She smiled, watching him coyly as he took careful steps towards her.   
His warm palms met her bare knees, his touch softening both her smile and eyes. She melted beneath him, her bold attitude quietening as deafening silence fell over them.   
Stiles stepped between her legs, watching as they fell open for him and curled around his own. Her foot slid across the back of his calf.

Her heart thudded in chest and heat rushed to her cheeks. She gazed up at Stiles as she pondered over the ways to ask your best friend to kiss you.   
Lydia was sure he heard her thoughts as his thumb brushed her bottom lip, pulling gently at the plump skin.   
He cleared his throat and dropped his hand, disappointment flooding her body. He looked down at her, unsure and uncertain - just like that night before.

The girls hands found their way to the hem of his shirt, her fingers fidgeting with the material as she tried to avoid the unmistakable bulge in his jeans. Her body was aflame and her mind raced with thoughts that she didn’t dare say aloud.   
"Lydia look at me".   
His words were demanding but his voice was soft, the air in the library stilled and all background noise blurred into one faint whisper that seemed to be miles away.  
The girl looked up at her friend, her eyes curious. She almost gasped as she was greeted with a gaze that burned her, molten honey looking back.  
Stiles moved closer, moving into her until their bodies brushed and each suppressed a moan.  
“I don’t know the rules of this game, Lydia, I don’t know what I can and can’t do…’’ His voice was low, hoarse and gruff with want in her ear.  
Her hands gripped his hands, his elbow, the material of his shirt on his chest. She shook her head fiercely.  
“It’s not a game, Stiles’’.

Her forehead met his chest and she closed her eyes as his hands came to rest in her hair, his long fingers rubbing against her head.  
“There’s no rules, I just want, I-’’ She made a noise of frustration as she tried to convey what she wanted to say.  
Stiles knew she trusted him, he knew they were best friends. She trusted him enough with her body, in her most vulnerable state. He had watched her come undone with the touch of his fingers.

Stiles knew that he was supposed to kiss her now, to cut her words off with his own lips, soft and gentle - before growing greedy and rough.  
So he did. His hands went from her long hair to cupping her face, lifting it to his own so his lips could capture hers.  
They moaned in instant relief, their gasps swallowed by each other as their lips came crashing down with groans and murmurs, silent promises and needy tongues.

Lydia clutched at him, the boy moving closer between her open legs as their bodies crushed together. He moved against her, bringing one rough palm to clasp her leg, her smooth skin gliding on his own like silk. He brought her leg up to curl around his hip and he held it there like a lifeline.   
Their lips and bodies moved roughly against each others, both of them desperate for more. When Stiles pulled back slightly to pant heavily against her open mouth, Lydia shook her head, quickly bringing his lips back to her own with desperate hands as their tongues danced together.   
Teeth nipped and scraped against swollen lips and arched necks, hands roamed and grasped and pulled at hair and clothes.

Their breaths were heavy and short and Stiles wondered how in the hell he had managed to stay away from those bee stung lips for five whole days.  
His hands mapped trails across her thighs and hips, groaning into her parted mouth as her tongue sneaked across his bottom lip. He pushed into her and his head fell back as she arched into him in response.   
Lydia’s hands fell to Stiles’ waist, her fingers shaking as she pulled helplessly at his belt. Stiles voice was hoarse as he mumbled,  
“Oh shit’’.  
Her hand brushed the length of him and her eyes grew wide as he twitched at her touch and grew harder than he thought was possible after Sunday night.  
“Lydia…” He groaned her name into her hair, his lips brushing her neck as she arched into him once more, granting him all the access he wanted. His mouth brushed against her skin, his teeth grazing her jawline.  
She whimpered, his hands found the curve of her ass and when he pulled her to him, they fell apart.  
“Stiles, take me home’’, the girl hardly recognized her own voice as she practically begged Stiles with hooded, dark eyes. He nodded back at her mutely, his hands finding her own as he helped her off of the desk.   
“Do you have any more classes?’’  
Lydia shrugged carelessly, “Nothing that I can’t miss’’, she leaned forward dragging her lips across his jaw as he shrugged on his bag, “You?”  
“Lydia, I couldn’t even tell you what day of the week it was right now’’.

The staggered almost dizzily as they quickly gathered the rest of their belongings and headed for the nearest exit.   
With the absence of alcohol, Stiles’ kisses stayed on Lydia’s lips for longer. She could feel her skin tingle and she could taste him still as her tongue peeked out to graze her lips.   
His hands were ghosts on her skin, her thighs, her neck, her waist.

Stiles gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, his attention severely distracted as Lydia’s skirt rose higher and higher as she stirred restlessly on the seat beside him. He contained his groans.  
His lips were aching from her wanting mouth, her greedy lips and tongue and teeth that teased and nipped. Stiles could feel her eyes on him as he stared ahead at the road, he felt her take him in, her eyes raking over his profile and down to his arms and chest.  
He was still hard as a rock, his excitement straining so obviously against his jeans. His embarrassment was yet to be found and he could only focus on the taste of Lydia that still lingered on his lips.

Stiles glanced over at his friend, watching her fidget still with the hem of her floaty skirt. It was royal blue and it made her hair look ridiculously bright. It was his favourite.   
He cursed and stepped on the brakes as he fought to pull his eyes away from Lydia’s hands. Her dainty fingers slid across the fabric, bringing the already short hem up and down. The silk slid across her skin so easily, Stiles was mesmerized.  
He brought a hand to her own, pushing them away from the fabric as he scowled across at her. She laughed easily and happily, an eyebrow arched as her hand was placed on his own thigh instead.

It didn’t take long for the pair to find themselves in Stiles’ driveway, the engine off and the allure of the boys empty bedroom beckoning to them.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I HIGHLY recommend reading this with the Black Keys album playing in the background, especially the songs, Everlasting Light, Howlin’ For You (HAAAAY) and Sinister Kid.   
> Cause, just trust me, okay?

“This doesn’t change anything cause’ we’re sober this time, right?’’  
A plaid shirt was chucked over a desk chair, books falling from the table as hips collided with the corner.  
“Of course not, we’re friends - close friends-’’  
“Special friends”.  
A skirt fell to the floor, a sigh, a groan. It was kicked across the floor by bare, delicate feet.  
“Who can maintain a mature friendship with each other. Our friendship will not be ruined just because we’re… we’re…’’  
“So good at kissing each other?’’  
A belt buckle rattled, a zip unfastened. Groans were muffled between lips.  
“Oh god, yes”.  
A shirt was thrown into the corner of the room.  
Curious eyes raked across the other’s form, taking in curves and dips and smooth skin, lean muscles and broad shoulders; freckles and constellations of moles that had yet to be discovered with full, eager lips.  
“Holy shit, you’re beautiful’’.  
“Stiles…’’  
“Come here”.

Lydia threw her little body into Stiles’ arms, his own chest meeting her own half way across the room as they collided. Their lips found each others easily and they melted together, already so familiar with each others kisses.  
Stiles lifted the girl, his rough palms cupping her ass as he lifted her up and into him, she responded with a moan of approval, her surprisingly long legs curling around his waist as she clung to him. They stumbled their way over discarded bags and forgotten shoes to his bed, only making it halfway as they ended up against a wall.  
She gasped at the cold surface as Stiles braced her between it and his warm body. She ran excited hands his frame, her body held up by his own as her fingers trailed across his strong arms and muscular shoulders.   
The girl tilted her head back in delight as she allowed him to kiss, lick and nip at her neck, gasping when his lips found a particularly sensitive spot below her ear. Her eyes were closed in pleasure as she squirmed in his arms and wondered when the fuck her best friend turned into one of the guys she read about in her ‘romance’ novels.  
You know, the kind she hid under her bed?

Tiny hands explored the wide, flat planes of muscle that stretched across his back, his skin tanned from the previous summer and hours of lacrosse practice. She traced each freckle and mole she found with a smile, making a silent promise to kiss each one she came across.

Stiles ground himself into her, all previous thoughts of possibly hurting the girl flying out of the window as she moaned into his neck and gripped a handful of his mussed up hair. He grinned against her lips as she attacked him with feverish kisses. Lydia was impatient and she clawed at his back to prove her point. Noises of pleasure and protest came from her throat and Stiles remembered them from that fateful Sunday evening.   
He placated her with soothing circles on the backs of her thighs - her legs gripping his frame harder as she attempted to pull the taller boy into her. He chuckled into her parted lips and he could feel her scowling at him despite his closed eyes. The sharp bite to his bottom lip confirmed his suspicions.   
“What do you want, Lydia?’’  
“Stiles, you already know fine well…’’  
His grin grew and he tried to keep his friend still as she wriggled impatiently in his arms. His jeans were becoming impossibly uncomfortable.   
“I wanna hear you say it’’, his voice dropped lower than before, his words hoarse and rough, “I want to hear you say those words to me again, Lydia’’.  
Valentines day, she was in his lap, half naked and turned on to ridiculous levels. Her voice resonated through him.  
"You need to tell me, Lydia, please…"  
"Touch me, Stiles".

Lydia opened her heavy, hooded eyes - dark with lust and anticipation. She licked her lips, his eyes following the movement as his hands took in the delectable curves of her ass. He was in heaven.  
Her voice was quiet and breathy, she sounded out of breath, worked up and exhilarated.  
“You want me to tell you that I want you to touch me?’’  
The boy’s eyes glazed over at her words, his gaze trained on her smirking lips.  
“Stiles?’’  
He snapped out of it, nodding slowly as he pulled their bodies together, closer than possible.  
Lydia’s breath hitched and Stiles attacked her neck once more, his mouth trailing fire across her collarbone and moving into the dip between her breasts, the lace of her bra tickling his cheeks and heightening his already crazed senses.  
Her lips brushed his ear as she murmured, “I want to touch you this time, Stiles’’.  
His groan could have been heard outside and it vibrated through his chest, against the girls own body. Stiles muttered curse words into her skin - her laughter doing bad, bad things to him. He raised his head to look at her and Lydia couldn’t help but appreciate his wild hair, bare chest and hooded eyes.   
Day old stubble created shadows across his jawline and Lydia wanted to kiss him there.  
She did - using that same movement to whisper a ‘’please’’ into his skin.  
“Fuck, Lydia. I wanna - Yes. But… I wanna touch you, wanna make you feel good…’’   
His sentences were unfinished, trailing off into her parted lips and stolen by her kisses. His brain was fried, all logical thoughts gone. He was liquid lust around this girl.

Lydia squirmed in his arms, smiling as he let out a hiss. She slipped down his body and he steadied her until she found her footing. Without her heels, she stood just below his chins and she couldn’t help smile down at her mussed up curls.  
“Well, I wanna touch you first”.  
“No, I wanna go first”.  
“You had your turn last time, I wanna make you-’’  
“I’m older and taller and bigger and-’’  
“Are we seriously arguing about this?!’’ Lydia stood in her underwear, glaring up at the boy with her hands on her hips.  
“Have I ever told you that you’re ridiculously hot when you’re angry?’’  
Stiles grinned, his jeans sliding down his narrow hips with every step he took towards her. The white band of his underwear called out to Lydia and her nimble fingers soon slipped into the elastic as he closed his arms around her.  
It took her seconds to wrap her tiny hands around the length of him, stilling in surprise and the size of her best friend.  
She looked up at him as he stood with his eyes closed tightly and his lips parted.

“Well isn’t this a nice surprise?’’ Her voice was filled with teasing and genuine excitement - she was still technically human after all.   
“Lydia I swear to god…’’  
Her eyebrows were raised in a challenge and she prompted him to continue. The girl stood on her toes, leaning up to graze feather light kisses along his jawline, trailing them down to his neck, shoulders and chest.   
His rib cage felt like it was about to cave in. Her own body brushed across his with her movements, her smooth, bare skin gliding along his own like silk. Pairing that with her wet kisses and her hold on his dick, Stiles felt like any other teenage boy at that moment.  
“Lydia Martin, if you don’t do something, like right now, I won’t be held responsible for the mess that I will create”.  
She laughed gleefully and continued with her peppering of kisses.  
“You want me to move my hand?’’  
Stiles nodded, his eyes still closed.  
“You wanna move to the bed?”  
He shook his head, his breath hitching as her hand squeezed him ever so slightly. In response, he moved back into the wall and she followed. This time his bare skin hit the cool paint, his jeans, unbuttoned and scratching against the surface behind him.

Lydia’s nose grazed his chin and her lips soon found his own as he open up to her, letting her tongue do wonderful things to his own as her hand moved across the length of him. He groaned into her parted lips and she moaned in return - her body moving closer and pressing into him, her hand crushed between their bodies.  
His breath grew shallow and he tore his lips away from hers as his chest heaved. Stiles let his head drop forward, resting on her own as her hand worked him faster, each movement precise and glorious and so, absolutely, fucking perfect.  
“Lydia…” His voice was dry, guttural and Lydia loved it.  
“Yeah, Stiles?’’  
“I can’t… I-’’  
“Tell me”. She peppered kisses across his exposed neck and shoulder, any bare skin that she could reach.   
He moaned low and heavy into her ear.  
“I’m gonna come, fuck. Lydia, so good, I swear’’.

The girl stroked him faster, squeezing his length tighter as his hands flew to her waist and gripped her hard. She gasped, desperate to give him the same pleasure he gave her, to see him come apart from her hands, her lips.   
He threw his head back with a low moan, his lips parted and eyes squeezed shut. Lydia watched him in awe, her hands slowing to a stop as he panted heavily, his body melting into the wall.

Silence fell over them and the only sound was shallow breaths and slow, lazy kisses. They parted and Stiles finally opened his eyes, heavy from lust. He gazed down at her in utter adoration and shock.  
“Holy shit’’.

Ten minutes had passed and Lydia was lying on her stomach across Stiles’ unmade bed. Her still half naked body was stretched out among the pillows and her brow was furrowed as she read the back of a bio textbook she had found on the floor.  
The bathroom door clicked open and she looked up to see Stiles standing in the doorway, his jeans and ruined boxers discarded and some grey sweats in their place.  
She was delighted to see that he had yet to find another shirt.

He moved towards her and her wide eyes followed the movements and ripples of muscles appreciatively. His hair was still gloriously messy and when he fell down onto the bed beside her, he ran long fingers through her own; brushing out the curls and knots.  
Stiles placed as kiss on her shoulder wondering how they hell he had ended up half naked and post orgasmic in his bed with his best friend. With Lydia.  
As she crawled on top of him, he decided not to question it.

Lydia was now one hundred percent certain that her favourite place was on top of Stiles. She watched from above him as he leaned back on his elbows, his chocolate eyes travelling down the length of her.   
Her was sure her skin was made of vanilla ice cream or something - her strawberry blonde tresses only causing it to stand out more. She was flawless.  
He told her.  
She shook her head with a small smile.  
He kissed it away.

Kissing Lydia was like unlocking all of the worlds secrets, Stiles thought, his lips moving gently across her own. She poured her soul into him, her body grinding slowly on top of his own. She shivered at his touch and he found galaxies in her battle bruises, maps of unknown planets on the blue and purple veins that he traced on her thighs.  
His hands pulled at her underwear, the lace slipping to the side as his fingers found that spot that made her moan his name into his lips.  
He was hard under her in an instant.  
Stiles rubbed softly at her sensitive skin, her legs straddling his lap as his hand slipped between their bodies.  
Lydia gyrated against him, moaning low and breathy as his fingers slipped inside her, his thumb stroking her softly. Her forehead collided with his own, their lips brushing and kissing, tasting each others sighs and breaths and words.  
He murmured to her, his breath warm in her ear as he told her how good she felt. Her legs closed around his hand, his long fingers coaxing more and more pleasure out of her.  
Her body tensed and he wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her to him as she fell apart from his lips, his fingers and his soothing words of encouragement.

Stiles fell back onto the mattress, Lydia falling with him as her head found a comfortable nook between his shoulder and chin. She gasped for air as Stiles’ rough palms painted soft patterns across her bare back. The girl erupted in goosebumps and she placed kisses on his neck.

They lay together, in his bed, half naked and blissful as the school bell rang in the distance - signalling the end of last period.


	9. Chapter Nine

Stiles ran a hand over his face, listening to his cell play the last notes of his ringtone. It faded to silence before it beeped again, once, twice and then a third. He groaned and rolled over, burying his face in a pillow that still smelled like Lydia.  
He groaned again.

She had left hours ago, kissing him goodbye softly and gently, before they fell back into bed and he finally said goodbye to her with another kiss an hour later. He was still in the same spot that she had left him, shirtless, ruffled and confused.  
He had kissed her countless times, he knew what his best friends lips tasted like. He knew what she sounded like when she moaned his name. He knew what her skin felt like under his hands, how perfectly she fit - his phone rang again.  
He yelled aloud, a strangled noise coming from the back of his throat as he rolled out of bed with a thump, stretching across the rug and grabbing his balled up jacket. Stiles yanked out the persistent device from his pocket and hit ‘accept’.

“What?”  
“Dude what the hell? Where have you been, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours!’’  
Scott’s voice was concerned and hardly audible over loud background music. Stiles sighed guiltily. He fell back down onto the mattress, the phone to his ear.  
“Sorry man, I was studying - couldn’t find my cell’’. Stiles winced, he hated lying to his best friend, “Where are you anyway?’’  
The pounding music was growing in his ear and he could hear Isaac yelling in the background.  
“Danny’s party, remember? That’s why I’m calling, we’re all wondering where you are…’’  
Stiles swore under his breath, moving up and over his window. He pulled back the blinds to see his dad’s cruiser still missing from the driveway.  
“All of you? Who’s there?’’  
Scott’s voice grew louder as he yelled over the bass, “Just the usual, Kira picked up Isaac and I earlier. Allison’s been trying to get Lydia to come out too - we haven’t seen her since you’s both bailed after lunch - where the hell did you both go anyway?’’  
The alpha’s voice pitched with curiosity as he remembered his friends absence. 

Stiles stuttered and tripped over a discarded shoe, “Uhh, I felt, um sick - so I headed home early…’’ He closed his eyes as he awaited his friends reply.  
Scott paused.  
“Huh. That’s what Lydia told Allison. Hope you didn’t catch anything from each other…’’  
Stiles almost choked on his own breath, “Shit, uh no. No, we’re never in, uh, close proximity to, well, you know - swap diseases and, um, stuff’’. The boy swung his arm out at his wardrobe at his own stupidity. His regretful choice of words was short lived as his friend simply laughed.  
“Yeah, sure man - just get your ass over here - Hey, Allison! Over he- Yes, Lydia! Finally!’’   
Stiles reached for a clean shirt at the mention of the girls name. He was confused and needed to speak to her, to see her - to anything. How was he supposed to act around her? Their friends?  
“Stiles, you there dude?”  
“Yeah man - on my way”.

Stiles pushed his way through the throng of familiar and unfamiliar students, muttering apologies as he went. He heard rather than seen Malia and Isaac ahead of him, their raucous laughter flowing over the loud music that filled the crowded room.  
He watched as Allison spotted him, grinning and yelling happy greetings from their spot on a couch. Scott slapped him on the back with a grin as Isaac chucked a bottle of beer into his hands. He caught it, smiled back at his friends and muttered ‘hello’ back. He did it all with his eyes trained on the strawberry blonde that sat on the arm of the couch.

 

Lydia met his gaze with her own, her smile slightly awkward but still warm and familiar. She could still taste his lips on her own and his hands on her body. She looked away, taking another long sip from her cup. She smiled and laughed distractedly at something Kira said.

Stiles struggled to get near Lydia for hours, the two friends constantly being intercepted and dragged away by drunken students they knew from school.  
When Stiles finally managed to escape from a game of beer pong with the lacrosse guys, he turned back to the sofa he last seen his friends - only to find Isaac and Malia alone and wrapped up in one another.

Stiles winced and looked around for the rest of the pack, not seeing any of them and cursing the fact that he didn’t have a set of werewolf senses of his own.  
He edged closer to the intertwined couple, his nose scrunched and his arm extended. He prodded Isaac on the shoulder.  
“Hey Isaac, you’ve got a Malia on your face’’. He chuckled at his own joke but his laughter died down as the couple pulled apart to scowl at him.  
“Oh - right, well now that you’re both not eating each other… Have you guy’s seen Lydia?’’  
Isaac groaned at his friend, returning his attention to Malia as he waved Stiles away with a rude gesture of his hand.  
They went back to kissing.  
Stiles huffed in frustration as made his way through the dancing crowd, finally spotting Allison and Scott in the kitchen. He made his way towards the couple, almost feeling bad for interrupting their private moment. 

Allison was perched on the counter her long legs swinging happily as Scott stood between them, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as they chatted to each other with grins on their lips. Before their said lips could become attached, Stiles joined them - tapping his beer bottle against Scott’s in greeting.  
“Alright, man?’’ Scott was perfectly sober whilst Allison was much more carefree, her arms curling around her boyfriend’s neck as she joined the boys in conversation.  
“I’m starting to feel like a fifth wheel here guys - have you seen Lydia around?’’ Stiles scratched the back of his neck casually, his voice strained as he tried to act nonchalant. The urge to pull on the front tufts of his hair was overwhelming.   
“She bumped into that Matthew guy she’s been seeing, they went out to the garden about ten minutes ago.’’  
Allison peered over Scott’s shoulder as she said this, her words casual as she appeared to not notice her friends reaction.  
“Matthew? You mean the douche she bailed on, on Valentines Day?’  
“Uh, I guess?’’ Allison shrugged her shoulders, pouting as Scott swapped her cup of punch for a bottle of water. They pair didn’t notice Stiles walk out the patio doors and into the cool night.

It was quieter outside and Stiles spotted Lydia almost instantly. She was sat on sun lounger next to the fire pit and her hair glowed like a beacon. She was sat next to a guy who looked almost as small as she was, with mousy brown hair and striped shirt. His hand was on her leg.  
Stiles hated him.

Without thinking rationally, Stiles made his way across the decking, stopping behind Lydia as her conversation with the strange boy slowed to a stop. She looked up at him as if she sensed him there. Stiles knew she had. It was the same pull that had led him across the garden to her.  
“Stiles, what’re you doing?’’ Her words were polite but Lydia’s brow was furrowed as she looked up at him. Stiles glanced down at her and saw the love bite he had give her earlier just below her dress collar.  
He swallowed thickly.  
“Uh, didn’t realize you had company’’, He glanced at the boy who was sneering at him from his seat beside Lydia, “I just, I just thought you uh, might be cold. So-’’  
He handed her the lacrosse hoody he had brought with him earlier on the walk over and was too busy eyeing Matthew to see the blush creep across her cheeks as she took it from him with soft eyes and a smile.  
“Thank you, Stiles’’.  
He nodded at her. The Matthew guy hadn’t said anything and he was still sizing Stiles up.  
‘Yeah, try it pipsqueak, I know three werewolves and a girl who resembles Pikachu’.  
“Stiles?”  
“Huh?”  
He was interrupted from his own thoughts as Lydia gestured to the boy, “This is Matthew. Matthew, this is my-’’, Lydia stuttered over her words, “My friend, Stiles’’.  
Neither boy held out their hands to shake, instead nodding curtly at one another. Stiles stood with his hands in his pockets, his lips pursed as Lydia’s words processed in his mind.  
He shook his head slightly, taking a few steps back from the couple.  
“Uh, right, well I’m going to head, I think… Uh, need me to walk you home Lydia? There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about.’’  
Stiles stood a few feet away from the girl, watching her as she clutched his hoody to her chest. She bit her lip before opening her mouth to reply, her eyes so wide, so soft and so full of tenderness as she looked back at the boy who seemed so nervous around her.  
“Actually I could give you a ride home’’, Matthew spoke up, his hand squeezing Lydia’s knee as he talked, “I haven’t been drinking and it would beat having to walk home with Stiles here, no?’’  
The boy smiled smugly, his eyes watching carefully for Stiles’ reaction.

Lydia stammered over her words and she tried not to look at Stiles as she accepted Matthews offer with a polite, tight smile.  
“Um sure? Yeah - I guess I can’t seem to think of a reason why not…’’ She trailed off, looking at Stiles as he studied the ground.  
“Great! That’s settled then”, Matthew stood and smoothed down his shirt, “I’ll go grab you another drink”.   
He walked across to Stiles reaching up slightly from his small stature to pat Stiles’ shoulder.  
“I’ll get her home safe, you seem like the overly protective, brotherly type’’, Matthew guffawed obnoxiously, walking away from the two and back into the crowded house.  
Stiles scrunched up his nose as he watched the boy saunter away and he turned to Lydia with a half smirk, “Do you want to tell him, or shall I? Protective brother type my ass…’’  
“Stiles, not now’’.

Lydia’s eyes were pleading as she stood to join her friend, careful not to reach out to him like she wanted to, like she would normally.  
The boy turned to look at her and frowned, wondering where her change of attitude had came from.  
“Lydia, what? I thought you said that guy was a douche - he is a douche’’.  
Lydia sighed as she looked up Stiles with an indignant expression.  
“No, those were your words, I merely said that he -’’  
“Couldn’t make you come like I can?’’

Her stomach dropped at Stiles’ words, his sudden confidence and the hand that he placed on her waist. Heat surrounded them as they stood together in the cool night and she swallowed thickly. Lydia didn’t dare meet his gaze that she could feel burning into her.  
“Stiles…” Her voice was weak and it came out as a whisper. His thumb ran circles into her waist, his long fingers curling around her back.  
“Let me take you home Lydia, I don’t like that guy’’.  
His voice was low and it resonated through her like chocolate and honey.She was almost powerless underneath his touch, at his words. She felt weak. It scared her.

Lydia chanced a quick look at the boy and was speechless when she found warm, brown eyes that were hooded and dark, gazing down at her. She bit her lip and watched in fascination as he licked his own unconsciously in reply.   
“Matthew’s coming back”.  
“I don’t care”.  
“Stiles…”  
Lydia moved out of his embrace and he allowed her, stepping away slightly as Matthew returned with an overfilled glass of beer and narrowed eyes.  
“They ran out of punch so I brought you some beer, you’ll drink that, right?’’  
Lydia was looking at the floor as she nodded and took it from him, gulping the amber liquid down and wincing at the bitter taste - her skin was flushed, her lips red and her cheeks pink.  
“Weren’t you leaving, bro?’’

Stiles peeled his eyes away from Lydia to raise his eyebrows at the boy. He cleared his throat and fought the urge to whisper out for Scott or Isaac and their claws.  
“Uh, yeah - I guess I was’’, he slapped Matthew on the back a tad too harshly to be considered friendly, “See you, bro’’.  
He backed away with a tight, sarcastic smile - stopping when he reached Lydia. She was perched back on the sun lounger and he hunched down on his knees to look her in the eye.  
“You need anything, Scott and Isaac are still inside. You need me, you call and I will be here in a second’’, he swiped his hoody from the chair beside her, pulling it gently over her head as the cool wind whipped her hair around her face. He smoothed it back.  
He pushed her still half full glass away from her, only giving her a look of warning as he did so. She pursed her lips at him but didn’t argue. Stiles dropped a quick and almost undetectable kiss to the top of her head as he stood, walking backwards from them.  
He made sure Matthew heard him as he told Lydia to text him when she got home safe.

Stiles walked away and continued looking over his shoulder until he was out the back gate and he could no longer see Lydia sitting bundled up in his sweatshirt, watching him with wide eyes as he left her alone with another guy. He sent Scott a text to tell him to watch out for Lydia and then he walked the pavements alone to his house.

It was two thirty am when Stiles cell beeped and vibrated underneath his pillow, rousing him from his restless sleep. His voice was hoarse and his eyes were still closed as he answered, blindly pushing at the buttons.  
“Hello?’’  
“Stiles, I’m outside. I need you’’.


	10. Chapter Ten

When Stiles opened his front door his eyes were panicked and concerned. He took in Lydia’s damp hair and his too large hoody, her eyes sad and unfocused as she gazed up at him with pouted lips.

He ushered her inside without words, his hand finding hers and pulling her in gently. She stepped into the hallway and into his arms. 

Stiles sighed, resting his cheek on top of her damp curls. She smelled like rain and her own perfume, the same scent that still clung to his pillows.  
“What’s wrong?’’  
The girl shrugged, her arms wound around that boy’s waist as she burrowed her head into his chest. He was warm from bed and soft with sleep, his hair mussed and his eyes heavy.  
“Lydia?” She pressed her face into his chest further and Stiles sighed once more. He closed the door over with one hand and shuffled them both into the living room.  
“Why are you here at 3am? Did something happen? I thought Matthew was giving you a ride ho- Did he hurt you? Where is he?’’   
Stiles voice grew slightly in volume and Lydia winced in his embrace, her lips hardly moving as she told him to be quiet.  
Stiles huffed, frustrated and he held his friend at arms length, looking down with panic.  
“Lydia, you need to talk to me’’.

“I’m fine Stiles, I’m, I’m fine’’, she stumbled over her words, her brow furrowed as she struggled to hold his stare.  
“You’re drunk. That son of a bitch-’’  
Stiles moved quickly, searching for the keys to his jeep as Lydia followed him out to the hallway again, trying to reach out to him. She finally grabbed a handful of his shirt that he had chucked on and she held him there, pulling insistently.   
“Stiles, no, no! He didn’t do anything. He dropped me off at my place… I just didn’t wanna go home’’.  
Her eyes were sad and guilty as she tried to explain and the boy looked down at her with a softened expression.  
“Lydia…’’, he pulled her into him once more, his arms curling around her frame perfectly. She shivered in his arms.  
“You’re freezing”.  
“I’m fine”, she lied. Lydia wasn’t fine at all.

They stood in silence for a few more minutes, wrapped around each other and swaying slightly in comfort. Both of them hid their furrowed brows and thoughtful, confused expressions as they wondered how this week had happened.  
And it was only Friday night.  
Eventually, Stiles pulled himself away from the girl grudgingly, smiling at her slight pout and taking her by the hand. He led her upstairs carefully, watching as she swayed slightly. He swore under his breath. His large hands found her waist and he held her on either side, close behind her as they stepped up each stair with careful feet.

When they finally made it to the top, Lydia felt like she could finally release the breath she had been holding. She made her way towards Stiles’ all too famiiar bedroom but stopped as she watched him disappear into the bathroom, leaving the door open.  
Bottles of shampoo fell and clattered to the floor and she heard him curse a few times. Soon, the sound of running taps filled the silent house and he appeared minutes later, his hand reaching out to her from the doorway.  
She raised an eyebrow at him, stumbling slightly into the wall before she righted herself.  
“You’re having a bath’’, Stiles stated simply, “You’re freezing and you need to sober up’’.

Lydia shuffled towards him, accepting his hand and he led her into the room that was filled with steam. She felt warmer already.  
The water inched it’s way up the tub and she sensed Stiles behind her, watching her. He was, with careful eyes and his lips set in a grim line.  
She frowned, reaching up with soft fingers to brush his lips, hoping for a smile. He didn’t and he lowered his eyes until she dropped her hand with embarrassment.   
“Come on, let’s get you warm’’.  
Stiles nodded to the edge of the bath and she sat, watching in silence as he peeled off her sodden shoes. His hands covered her feet and he rubbed them, warming them in his palms.   
“Why did you think it was a good idea to walk to mine in the rain? You should have called me, I would have came and picked you up’’.  
Lydia looked down at him with a small, hopeful smile, “Really?’’  
“Of course I would have, Lydia, wouldn’t I have always done that for you?’’

The girl had the right to look sheepish as she mumbled, “I guess…’’  
Stiles gave her a pointed look that said, ‘exactly’.   
“So what’s changed, why would tonight be any different?’’ He motioned for her to stand and he took hold of his sweatshirt. She lifted her arms without a second thought as he helped her peel the heavy, rain soaked material away from her tiny body and over her head.  
He dropped it to the floor with a squelch and looked down at his friend with raised eyebrows, waiting for her answer.  
“Because we’ve changed, we’re different,’’ Lydia’s gaze stayed level with Stiles’ chest her fingers absentmindedly picking at her nails, “Because you left me at a party with another guy after we spent that afternoon in bed together and I really don’t know what all of that means’’.  
Stiles stood in shock as he watched a single tear make it’s way down Lydia’s cheek. 

“No, no, no, no’’, He hushed her, his voice tight with panic and he pulled her into his arms, “Don’t cry Lydia, please don’t’’.  
Lydia fisted his shirt in her hands, her eyes squeezed shut as she pressed her face into his chest, tears falling in full force now.   
“And I’m really drunk!’’ She wailed.  
Stiles was not prepared for any of this and he thanked the gods that his Dad had taken overtime that night. He stroked the girls damp curls and made soothing noises that he whispered into her ear. They swayed together and Stiles opened and closed his mouth seven times over before he decided on the right words to say.  
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen drunk Lydia… I forgot how emotional she was’’, he laughed slightly and hoped to god she would too.  
She let out a short chuckle into his chest and the boy sighed in relief. He pulled away enough so he could look down at her and his heart almost broke when she gazed back up with huge green eyes and long lashes soaked with tears.  
His voice was soft and broken when he told her once more, “Let’s get you warm huh?’’

Despite Lydia’s eye roll, Stiles insisted that he stood outside whilst she continued undressing. He felt a sense of triumph when she finally stopped arguing with him and he heard the soft splashes of water from the other side of the door, indicating that she was finally in the warm water.  
“You can come back in now, Stiles’’.  
He winced and he struggled internally with the pull he felt at her words. He cleared his throat, his hands clasped at his lips.  
“Uh, yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll just sit out here and talk to you… You know, make sure you don’t drown and what not’’.  
“Stiles, you’ve seen me naked…’’  
Was she trying to kill him? The boy dropped his head onto the closed door, the cool wood doing nothing to ease the heat that was coursing through his body.   
“Well, technically, I’ve not’’, he closed his eyes as he heard the water ripple and splash, “There’s always been, um, lace an- and jeans in the way and what not’’, his throat was dry as he heard Lydia sigh in content.  
“And that goddamn lacrosse sweatshirt’’, he cursed under his breath.

“Stilinski, I don’t care - get your ass in here and make sure I don’t fall into an alcohol induced coma’’, her voice was playful but stern - there was no room for arguing.  
“You’re so fucking bossy’’.  
“Stiles!’’  
He ignored her, instead choosing to silence her by turning the handle and opening the door, peering round cautiously. She was a sight to behold. Her damp curls had been piled on top of her head - a mass of auburn that fell haphazardly around her face, framing her flushed cheeks. Mountains of bubbles surrounded her and only her shoulders were visible from the water. She smiled coyly at him, watching him with an amused expression as he sat on the floor beside the tub, his forearms leaning against the lip. He looked at her with warm, chocolate eyes that made her sigh.

She did. Lydia hummed happily, the warm water and the lasting effects of the copious beer she drank making her carefree and numb.   
“How’re you feeling?’’ Stiles mumbled quietly to her, his voice matching the mood and surroundings. Lydia tucked her knees into her chest under the water, making herself smaller as her eyes dropped and she shrugged. Her happy mood slowly seeped into the water around her, swirling away with the popping bubbles. She lay her head on her knees and looked at Stiles with a helpless expression.  
“I don’t know. I’m drunk’’.  
Stiles laughed softly, one finger tracing soapy trails up and down her shoulder.  
“What do you know?’’

Lydia thought carefully for a moment, her lips pursed and a little furrow appeared between her brows that Stiles thought was adorable.  
Her ruby lips parted and she let out the breath she had been holding.  
“I know that I’m drunk and I’m tired. I know that I wanted to come to yours, I wanted to see you’’, her eyes landed on his, unashamed and bold, “I wanted you to hold me and tell me that what we’re doing isn’t going to mess us up’’.   
Her eyes watered again and Stiles was quick to move to his knees, closer to her and pressing his lips to her bare, wet shoulder.  
“I want you to tell me that we’re still best friends and I want you to tell me that it sucked just as much for you, as it did for me when you walked away and left me that douche’’.  
Stiles smiled against her skin when she used his own word. That guy was a douche. He placed another kiss to her neck.

He stood without words, gripping his shirt from the back of his neck and pulling it off, dropping it beside Lydia’s clothes on the cold tiles.  
She looked up at him with a curious expression, her voice was hoarse from the party and from talking, her once tired eyes now alert and wide.  
“You wanted to come here so I could hold you right?’’  
The girl nodded slowly, “Among other things, yes’’.  
Stiles scoffed, laughing and shaking his head at her, “One thing at a time, okay?’’  
He reached for the band of his grey sweats, undoing the tie before swallowing audibly and pushing them to the floor.  
Before Lydia could rake her eyes down the full length of his naked frame, he stepped out of her view and into the bath behind her.  
His long legs slide past either side of her so she was sat between them and he carefully pulled back on her shoulders until her back met his bare chest - warmed with the water around them.  
She allowed him, her body reacting to the new sensations of his hard, wet chest beneath her. She wiggled, getting comfortable against him and she took pleasure in hearing him moan under his breath, his erection trapped between their bodies.  
“Is this you holding me?’’ Lydia’s voice was barely audible but Stiles nodded, placing soft, wet kisses along her shoulders and spine. She shivered under his touch.

“Are you okay?’’ His voice was low and it vibrated through his chest and into her back. His slight stubble scratched her bare skin, his rough palms massaging the sides of her waist, running up and down - dangerously close to the sides of her breasts.  
She nodded, not trusting her voice.  
They sat together in comfortable silence, washing each other and placing kisses on the parts of the others body that they could reach. Stiles mapped out Lydia’s back and shoulders with his lips whilst she peppered kisses on each of his fingers, his palms, his wrist.  
When he lay back in the water, pulling her with him gently, she reach up and placed a kiss on the underside of his jaw.

It must have been nearing four in the morning when Stiles helped Lydia out of the tub and wrapped her in the biggest, fluffiest towel he could find. Wrapping one around his own waist, he repressed the urge to pick her up and carry her to his bed.  
Instead, he led her by the hand, watching her stumble adorably in the dark as they both fought sleep. Without words, he pulled one of his T-Shirts over her head, accepting her smile as thanks. He pulled on some boxers and watched her crawl into his bed. She settled herself in the middle of his pillows as if she was made to be there.  
Her hand reached out to him as he stood dumbly at the bottom of the bed frame and he walked round to take it, her tiny fingers lost in his hold. He crawled in beside her, their hands never letting go of each other.   
As soon as his head met his pillow, she shuffled closer, her head finding her favourite spot on his chest and her leg slipping between his own.  
Stiles let out a long exhale.

“We don’t have to do, uh, what we’ve been doing if you’re confused Lydia’’, Stiles whispered into her hair, “I’m confused too’’.  
She was silent and still in his arms, so he continued, “I didn’t want to leave you with that asshole… I thought you did though - I thought I was being the friend that was too over protective’’.  
He sighed, “I wanted to punch him. But I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. You’re my best friend, but I swear to god I wanted to rip his head off when he touched you… That’s not normal, right? Best friends aren’t supposed to feel that way’’.  
“We’re special friends, Stiles’’, Lydia’s voice was thick with sleep and the boy wasn’t even sure if she had her eyes open. He made a noise of frustration that filled the dark room.  
“Lydia, you keep saying that and I don’t know what it means!’’  
“It means you’re my best friend and we kiss and we make each other feel good’’, her fingers traced the muscles on his abdomen and he tensed under her touch.  
Her voice was soft and her words were mumbled as she fell into a place between sleep and reality.  
“But I’m scared Stiles, don’t know what will happen’’, she yawned, “Don’t wanna mess this up, can’t lose you, you know?’’  
“You won’t lose me Lydia, ever, I promise’’, Stiles stroked her hair out of her face as she twisted in her sleep, her face turned up to his own as she smiled tiredly back at him.  
“Promise? Good. I just don’t want you to stop kissing me Stiles. You make, make me feel good, y’now? So good’’.

The boy nodded and watched her nod off, her lips still parted slightly at her last slurred words.  
“Yeah I know’’, he said to no one in particular, “So goddamn good’’.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Stiles woke up to his dad knocking on his bedroom door and yelling about breakfast on the table.   
He stretched and yawned, moaning into his pillow as the gloomy morning light flooded sleepily into his bedroom. He inhaled strawberries and Lydia’s perfume with a sigh.   
Lydia.   
He bolted upright, his limbs scrambling   
ungracefully between the sheets. His tired eyes cleared and he was confused at the sight of the empty space beside him.   
The shirt he had given her last night was folded neatly on her vacated pillow and her clothes that had been drying on the radiator had disappeared.

Confused, he slipped out of bed, grabbing a shirt to pull over his head in the process. Stiles’ bare feet padded across the floor and he pulled the blinds up, only to groan in response. The grey light shone harshly and he grimaced at the dark, navy clouds above.   
He crossed his room and ventured into the hallway, the smell of bacon and coffee invading the house in the most inviting way. He frowned at the bathroom, the open door confirming that Lydia was not in there either.   
His foot touched the first stair as his phone beeped from somewhere in his room.   
He backtracked, ignoring the sound of coffee being poured as he began to look for his cell underneath his pillow and in the pockets of discarded jeans.   
He eventually found it on his bedside cabinet, underneath a school textbook.

"Stiles, woke up early - promised to meet Allison. I’m fine… Thank you for last night x"

He frowned at the glowing screen, his brow furrowing at the thought of her walking to Allison’s on her own, instead of asking him for a ride.   
He looked dejectedly around his room, all signs of her gone, no trace of her left -including his lacrosse jersey that had been drying overnight. He rubbed a hand over his tired face and tried not to think how he had only five hours sleep last night.   
He dropped his phone without typing out a reply and trudged downstairs before his father could yell up at him.

The sheriff stood in his uniform in front of the cooker, watching the bacon pop and fizz whilst he tried to think of the best way to confront his teenaged son.   
He had awoken early, just like every morning, to see Lydia sneak of out his sons room and out of their front door for the second time that week - that he knew of.   
He was about to yell upstairs when Stiles appeared in the kitchen doorway; looking tired and forlorn.   
The younger Stilinski sat at the table, his messy head in his hands as his father placed his breakfast in front of him and then joined his son.   
“So, what’s going on with you and Lydia?” Sheriff Stilinski peered at his son over the rim of his coffee mug, taking a long sip as Stiles gaped at his father with a slack jaw.   
“I don’t really know what you’re ta-“  
“Cut the crap, son - I know she stayed last night”.   
“I’m aware that you’re aware…”

Stiles sighed, stabbing his bacon with fork as his father waited patiently for him to explain.   
“It’s Lydia, you know?” Stiles was vague but his dad nodded knowingly, chewing on his own breakfast thoughtfully.   
“Something happened on valentines day, we were hanging out and well, we kissed and - uh, we kissed”, he stuttered and pursed his lips; avoiding his fathers gaze and refusing to divulge more information.   
The sheriff raised his eyebrows in surprise, a small smile hiding on his lips, “I see… And that’s a good thing, no?” He sipped his coffee, “you’ve had a thing for Lydia since the fifth grade, right?”  
“The third”.   
Mr Stilinski chuckled and started to butter his toast, presenting Stiles with a slice and asking the obvious question.   
“So what’s the problem then?”

Stiles sighed and waved his toast around dramatically as he explained: “Well, we’ve kind of kept it to ourselves. We didn’t make a big deal out of it even though I was freaking dying inside”, the sheriff laughed again, “And then we kissed again and again and then she turned up last night all sad and weirdly emotional for Lydia and shit, sorry, I don’t know what to do”. Stiles bit off a piece of toast.

"And then there’s Matthew…"  
“Who’s Matthew?” Stiles’ father scrunched up his face in confusion.   
“Matthew is a giant douche, Dad”.   
Mr Stilinski accepted this answer with a nod, placing his empty plate in the sink. He grabbed his car keys and braced himself against the doorway, looking at his son with folded arms.

"And where’s Lydia now?"  
“Allison’s, she bailed on me”, Stiles sighed, pushing his food around his plate. His brow furrowed and he thought about the empty space in his bed.   
“Go get her, kid”, his Dad patted his shoulder and left for work, leaving Stiles with his own thoughts and forgotten breakfast.

Allison came out of her bathroom in a cloud of steam, her hair wrapped in a towel as she pushed last nights homework off of her bed. She sat down with a sigh, turning to her best friend who lay face down on the mattress beside her.   
“So, now that I’m awake, are you going to tell me why you turned up at my door at seven thirty on a Saturday morning?”  
“Aren’t you pleased to see me?” Lydia’s voice was muffled by the pillows she hid in and only her auburn that was piled on top of her head could be seen.   
“Lydia…”  
The banshee huffed and made a deal of turning over, her tiny body still wrapped in the too big jersey that belonged to the boy she woke up beside that morning.   
“Allison, I’ve done a bad thing”.

The brunette stopped drying her hair and dropped the damp towel on her lap, turning until she sat cross legged on the bed. She faced Lydia with a confused and worried expression.   
“What’s wrong.” It wasn’t a question, but a concerned statement, a demand.   
“It’s about a boy”.

Allison relaxed visibly and reached out to play with a loose strand of Lydia’s hair, curling it around her finger.   
“You mean that Matthew guy?”  
Lydia flopped onto her friends lap, lying across her knees and staring nervously at the plaid pattern of Allison’s pyjama pants. She allowed her to play with her hair for a few minutes and Lydia was content in the silence until Allison’s pulled sharply on a curl, prodding her to speak.   
“That actually hurt, I’ll have you know”.

"Lydia Martin, you woke me up and if it’s got nothing to do with werewolves, it better have been for something good".   
“I kissed Stiles”.   
Allison was quiet and still, Lydia’s long, strawberry curl lay dormant in Allison’s hand and the girl gaped blankly at her friend.   
Silence passed and Lydia fidgeted from her spot on the bed, her head still in the brunettes lap. Allison said nothing so Lydia continued, her voice hesitant and her body warm as her words brought back images from the memories she shared.   
“Actually he kissed me, I guess I just told him I wanted him to”, she furrowed her brow as she remembered that night, “I suppose we made out a bit, a lot. Then other stuff happened…”

Allison moved so quickly that Lydia was sure she got whiplash. Her head that was supported by her friends legs was sent bouncing down onto the mattress as Allison stood up. Within seconds, the girl had practically straddled the strawberry blonde; her hands on either side of her head as she stared down at her incredulously.   
“Are you being serious?”  
“Yes, Allison - what’re you doing? Oh my god, move-“  
“Like, actually one hundred percent serious?”  
Lydia stared back at her friend with narrowed eyes, “Yes! Allison, I’m trying to pour my heart out here, would you please get off of me-“  
There was a sharp squeal and Lydia saw pillows sail through the air as Allison crashed down beside her with a wide grin.   
“Oh my fucking god, tell me everything!”  
“I’m trying to!”


	12. Chapter Twelve

“So you and Stiles…’’  
“Uhuh’’.  
“Making out and…’’  
“Yeah… and stuff…’’  
Allison and Lydia lay side by side on the brunette’s bed, their eyes wide and staring at the ceiling. The banshee let out a slow exhale as Allison’s cheeks hurt from grinning. She dropped her head to the side, looking at her friend. The girl raised her eyebrows suggestively, her eyes twinkling.   
“Well?’’  
Lydia frowned back, “Well, what?’’  
“How was he?’’  
Lydia tried to suppress a coy smirk but failed, instead choosing to bite her lip as Allison laughed gleefully.  
“Which time?’’ Was Lydia’s reply. Allison shrieked in delight, rolling off of the bed to her feet and throwing a cushion at Lydia playfully.  
“Lydia Martin, tell me now!’’  
The strawberry blonde laughed freely, burrowing her face in the pillow that she caught from Allison and squealed.   
She surfaced, facing Allison with pink cheeks and glittering eyes.  
“Amazing’’, she said truthfully, her voice breathless.  
Allison jumped back onto the bed, crossing her legs Indian style as she stared at Lydia with wide eyes.  
“Seriously?’’  
Lydia nodded shyly, “The best, everything he does is just so-’’, she flung herself onto her back once more as Allison hovered over her, hanging onto every word she spoke.  
“I mean, his hands’’, she continued, “And his lips, god, his lips!’’ Lydia practically moaned, her cheeks pink and flushed.  
The pair sat in silence, both minds wandering at Lydia’s words. Allison smiled down at her friend, a question playing on her lips.  
“Better than Jackson?’’  
“Jackson who?’’

Stiles emerged from his shower with a billow of steam and a sigh, the empty house quiet apart from the faint buzzing that came from the room next door. Thinking of a certain strawberry blonde, he scrambled into his bedroom - his wet feet slipping on the wooden floor - and he grabbed his phone.  
Scott’s name flashed on the screen and he answered with an upbeat greeting, secretly feeling guilty that he was disappointed.  
“Hey man, what’s up?’’  
Scott sounded tired and he yawned before responding, “Fancy coming round to play Xbox? I just got the new halo - let me hand your ass to you’’.  
Stiles laughed and considered the invite, looking down at his empty bed and his T-Shirt that Lydia had worn the night before. He had washed her, kissed her, soothed her, held her in her sleep. And then she left him.  
He frowned and reached for a clean shirt in his wardrobe.   
“Sounds good, I’ll be round soon’’.  
“Excellent! Bring food!’’

Scott sat on his bedroom floor with his mouth hanging open, his slice of pizza now lukewarm and suspended in the air by his frozen hand.   
“So yeah, we had a bath together and fell asleep in my bed… When I woke up she was gone and that’s that’’, Stiles concluded his hour long confession, “That’s the complete story of the best week of my life’’.  
Stiles sighed and took a long drag of his juice, throwing his pizza crusts into the cardboard box that lay between them. The video game beeped impatiently in the background and Scott was silent.   
Stiles clenched his fists in front of him, his mind racing and his heart dull in his chest. He was disappointed when he woke up alone, he was unsure of what to do - confused as to how Lydia felt.  
“I just, I just felt like I got something real out of her last night man, you know? It wasn’t just making out or fooling around’’. Stiles sighed and fell back against the bed frame.   
“She was still a little bit drunk, yeah, but she let me hold her and take care of her and she told me I made her feel good… she told me that she was scared - that she didn’t want to lose me’’. He rubbed his eyes and looked at his best friend for a response, for some advice.  
“Why are you sitting here?’’

“What?’’  
Scott frowned at his human friend, his pizza forgotten about as he spoke for the first time in an hour and twenty minutes, “Why are you even here?’’  
“Well that’s just rude-’’  
“Bro!’’ Scott huffed in frustration, “She practically told you last night!’’  
Stiles squinted back at him, clearly confused at his explanation.   
Throwing a balled up shirt at him, Scott continued, “Stiles, when was the last time Lydia let herself get into a serious relationship?’’  
“With Jackson..?’’  
“Exactly. How did that end?’’  
“Considering the homicidal circumstances, I’m going to go with not well’’, Stiles ventured with a wince.   
“Jackson didn’t treat her well dude, with or without being a supernatural lizard’’, The alpha explained gently, “She was terrorized by the past and present version of Peter, played around with by Aiden and practically abandoned by her own dad’’.  
Stiles nodded thoughtfully, his expression solemn.

“She told you the reason last night, man, in the bath - when she was freaking wrapped around you!’’ Scott dropped his pizza onto his plate, leaning forward to clap Stiles on the shoulder.  
“She’s scared. Lydia’s scared I’ll hurt her like every other guy’’, Stiles’ eyes were wide with realization. He ran a hand through his messy hair, his palm rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully.   
“Ten points to Stilinski’’.

“Hey, Lydia, it’s me again - pick up your phone okay? Or call me back, I really need to talk to you’ - like urgently’’.

“Lydia, I went round to yours, your mom said you were at Allison’s - I’m driving round now - I just really think we should talk’’.

“Uh, so, yeah. I went round to Ally’s… she, she told me you went out with that Matthew guy. Uh, yeah - So I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll see you tomorrow, or at school or something. Yeah-’’.

TWO HOURS EARLIER.

Lydia’s cell rang from inside her bag and she ignored Allison’s moans of protest as she clambered over her, messing up her freshly painted nails.  
She grabbed her phone without looking at the screen, answering breathlessly and hoping to hear the voice she left behind that morning.  
“Lydia, hi - it’s me’’.

The strawberry blonde frowned.  
“Sorry - who’s calling?’’  
Allison lifted her head and attention away from her cherry red toenails and matched her curious expression to her friends frowning one. She mouthed to Lydia ‘who is it?’  
The voice laughed nervously before it drawled, “It’s Matthew…’’  
Lydia cringed internally and stuttered before answering.  
“Matthew! Right, of course - sorry! I, uh, I was expecting another call - sorry…’’  
Allison made a face at the mention of the boy and watched Lydia through curious eyes. She flung a pillow at the banshee, telling her silently to put the call on loudspeaker. Lydia batted her away, avoiding two more flying cushions before relenting and pressing the conference button.

“So, like I was saying - we didn’t really get to see too much of each other at the party last night. I was wondering if I could take you out this evening?’’  
Lydia gaped at her friend who furiously shook her head, her short curls whipping around her face.  
“No! Lydia no! Say no! No!’’ Allison whispered hissed, following the redhead around her room as she paced the floor, grappling for a response.  
“Uh, Matthew, I’m uh, I’m-’’  
“Busy! You’re busy! Say you’re busy!’’ Allison waved her hands frantically, pulling at her friend’s skirt as she fell to the floor in dramatic despair.   
The hunter looked up from her place on the carpet in defeat as Lydia let out a sigh into the phone.  
“Sure, Matthew - I’d love to go out with you’’.  
“ARE YOU FU-’’  
“Pick me up in an hour? Okay-gotta-go-bye!’’ Lydia rambled the last few words to the boy as Allison shouted out in surprise.

“You don’t even like him, Lydia’’, Allison watched her friend apply a fresh coat of red lipstick before fluffing out her curls around her face like an auburn halo.  
“Sure I do, he’s nice-’’  
“He’s boring, he’s dull, he’s pretentious, he’s a douche bag, he’s not Stiles…’’  
“Correct, Allison; he’s not Stiles - and right now, that’s what I’m aiming for’’.  
She stood, smoothing out her skirt and grabbing her bag, letting her vibrating phone slip into it’s depths unnoticed - the girl was oblivious to the illuminated screen, flashing with Stiles’ name and laughing picture.  
“Lyds, babe, you need to give you and Stiles a shot… from what you told me, everything seems pretty perfect-’’  
“Allison, we live in a world where giant lizards and werewolves are real, Japanese demon’s have tried to kill us and all boys I’ve dated have disappointed me in ways I don’t want to go into… Nothing’s perfect’’.  
Lydia smiled a sad, tight lipped smile and headed for the door as her friend continued to try and reason with her.  
“It’s Stiles, Lydia! He adores you! He-’’  
“He adores the idea of me, Allison, he adores kissing me and rolling around in bed with me… I’m not good enough for him, not all of him - I’m pretty sure we discussed this five months ago’’. She raised her eyebrows sternly, daring Allison to try and push the matter further.  
Allison did: “You’re being an idiot’’.  
Lydia laughed humorlessly, “I think you’ll find this is the smartest thing I could do right now, Allison’’.  
The other girl shook her head, folding her arms in frustration and pursed her lips. Lydia walked around her, picking up her heels as she headed out into the Argent’s hallway and to the front door.  
Allison was close behind, her tirade following Lydia through the house.

“You literally told me an hour ago that you and Stiles together, was insane! You said it was amazing, you told me he held you all night and-’’  
“Allison, please, I am begging you to drop it!’’  
"Stop!” Lydia suddenly whipped around to face her in the hall, her wide, green eyes watering; her lip quivering, “Just, please, stop it, okay?’’ She smiled sadly, “Stiles needs to find a nice girl who actually deserves everything I turned down two years ago - who realizes what’s in front of her before they end up in a dysfunctional friendship that ends with them in bed together every other night’’, Lydia rambled breathlessly.  
“Lydia, no, it’s not like that with you two-’’.  
A car horn beeped from outside. The girls stood in silence, staring each other down.   
“…I need to go’’.  
“Lydia!’’  
The door closed.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

“Stiles, trust me - I know how you feel-’’  
“Allison, I really, really don’t think you’re understanding the full situation here’’, Stiles paced back and forth in the Argent’s hallway, his worn out converse burning holes on the rug, he sighed; rubbing harshly at his face with fidgeting hands.  
The girl struggled for words, “Look, maybe I do-’’  
“Ally, I am one hundred percent sure that this is not a thing you and Scott went through, okay-’’  
Allison huffed in frustration and stood in front of her friend’s path, blocking him from moving by grabbing him by the shoulders. He stood wide eyed as she stared up at him.  
“Would it make everything a lot easier if I told you that I knew everything?’’  
Stiles gaped at her, mumbling slightly, “Everything? Lydia, told you everything. You know… everything?’’  
“Everything’’.  
A blush crept up the back of his neck and Stiles felt his cheeks heat up as his friend smirked up at him, eyebrows raised and a gleefully smug sparkle in her eyes.  
“Great’’.  
“So please, please dear god, enlighten me as to why she’s away with him? On a date?’’  
Allison was perched on the edge of her sofa, watching once more as Stiles paced his way from the hallway into her living room and then back again.  
“Stiles, I told you - I don’t know! It’s Lydia, who know’s what’s going on in her head…’’  
“You do’’.  
Allison looked up from the floor and she tried in vain to avoided meeting the boys gaze.  
“You’re her best friend, Ally, you know exactly what’s going on in her head’’.  
The girl had the right to look guilty and she moved her stare to the wall behind Stiles’ head, trying to ignore the look of hurt and frustration etched onto his face.   
“Exactly, she’s my best friend - she’d kill me if I started telling everyone and anyone the things she trusted me with’’.  
“Hey, no, no no…’’ Stiles was quick to stand in front of her before dropping to his knees and meeting her at eye level. His brown eyes were soft and as sad as she had ever seen. Allison sighed.  
“I’m not everyone and anyone, not to her, Allison - not anymore’’, he gulped nervously, “She came to me last night, she called me up at three am, not the other way around’’.   
Stiles laughed humorlessly, “Lydia was the one who told me that she didn’t want me to stop, to stop… kissing her’’.  
He wiped a hand over his face in frustration as Allison held onto his every word, her head tilted as she listened and her brows furrowed with empathy.  
“I held her all night, she’s let me do that so many times now. Lydia, Lydia wears my shirts to bed - she let’s me wash her hair when she’s too drunk to do it herself! She wanted me to kiss her - she told me she did - and I am not going to let his dickhead take her away from me cause she’s too scared to let me know that she actually cares about me!’’ Stiles finished his tirade with a heavy sigh, his chest heaving as Allison nodded back slowly.

He stood, walking away from her with his hands behind his head, he pulled at the hair on the nape of his neck - only hearing Allison’s words as he looked out of the window with stormy eyes.  
“You know it’s more than her just caring about you, right Stiles?’’  
He sighed, giving a half-hearted shrug as he dropped his chin to his chest in defeat.  
“Stiles, she’s crazy about you! You’ve just given yourself all the evidence you need two minutes ago! Lydia is falling for you more and more each day and she’s absolutely terrified’’, Allison frowned, stepping forward to give the boy a good natured shove on his shoulder, “You get that, right? You’re supposed to be the smart one, for Christs sake’’.

——-

Lydia stood shivering in the airy cinema, the empty seats around her only emphasizing the fact that Matthew sat so close on her other side. A group of teenagers near the back row sniggered their way through the adverts and threw popcorn at each other, making her frown. She pulled the hem of her skirt down to her knees, crossing her arms as she tried to keep the goosebumps at bay.   
“Oh, hey, are you cold?’’  
She smiled tightly as Matthew spoke to her through a mouthful of chocolate. Deciding that wearing his jacket wouldn’t be as bad as getting hypothermia during a terribly cliche horror movie called ‘’Ouija’’, she nodded.  
Instead of shrugging off his coat and handing it to her like she expected, he moved even closer and boldly placed his arm around her shoulder. He pulled her small frame into his own and she stiffened - his body unknown and strange to her.   
He didn’t smell like mint and gummy worms, his hands weren’t ridiculously large and rough against her skin. He wasn’t tall enough for her to tuck her head safely under his chin. He wasn’t -.

——-

“Stiles, please tell me how you plan on finding out where they even went?’’  
Allison stood with her hands on her hips as Stiles pulled his hoodie over his head with a total lack of grace and sophistication.  
From beneath the material, he mumbled back, “I’ll just drive around town until I see her or she answers her phone’’.  
“Are you being serious?’’  
The boy eventually pulled his head through the correct opening and yanked furiously at the hem of the material. He stood tall, staring down at his friend with raised eyebrows.  
“You’re being serious, oh my god’’.  
Stiles opened his mouth to argue but nothing came out, and instead, he patted down his pockets, looking for his car keys.  
“Okay, I’m calling Scott’’, Allison shook her head in exasperation, watching as Stiles dropped to all fours and hunted under her sofa for the keys to his jeep.

——-

The movie dragged on and on, and with each passing minute of high pitched, horror music; Matthew’s hand seemed to be edging lower towards Lydia’s chest.  
She gritted her teeth and wriggled away from him with a sudden force he wasn’t expecting and he jumped back with a grunt. The old couple two rows behind them hushed him impatiently.   
He frowned at Lydia and smiled, not at all apologetic, “Yeah, I’m warm now, thanks’’.  
They were only forty minutes into the film and Lydia had lost count of how many fake, whining screams the half naked actresses had bleated out. Frankly, she was insulted.  
She took a sip of her drink and watched with morbid curiosity as Matthew’s hand came to rest on her bare knee, his eyes still trained on the screen as a smug smirk fell onto his lips.

She slapped him away without any hesitation, mentally cursing herself for accepting his offer in the first place. She ignored his baffled stare and with her lips set in a grim line, she grabbed her bag from the floor and stood.   
“Excuse me, I need to go to the ladies room’’.  
Without waiting for a reply, or to see if he had even heard her, she squeezed past her date and took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the scoffs of the underage teens at the back. With a deep sigh, she stepped into the harshly lit lobby and pressed her back against the closed door.  
Finding a seat by the popcorn counter, she dropped into the hard, plastic chair. Lydia cursed under her breath as she thought of the boy she had left behind that morning, the boy she hadn’t heard from since. She thought back to last night, how he listened to her drunken mumbling and washed away her tears. She had woken up in his shirt, tangled around him and so blissfully content.  
Then she ruined it.

Before the tears of frustration could spring to her eyes, she grabbed her bag from the floor, searching through it with determination until she dug out her cell.   
Five missed calls, three voicemails.  
She breathed a sigh of relief at seeing his name, even on her phone screen. Lydia even whispered it under her breath, just to make sure she was sure she read it correctly.   
Three voicemails, all from Stiles.

“Hey, Lydia, it’s me again - pick up your phone okay? Or call me back, I really need to talk to you’ - like urgently’’.

The banshee listened to each one with a growing sense of dread, her heart was heavy and her throat was tight.   
The last message ended with a harsh beep and a digital voice asked her again and again if she wanted to keep, delete or listen to the message again.   
Instead she hung up and scrolled through her list of favourites until she landed on ‘S’. With the press of two buttons, the image of a grinning, sleepy Stiles came to life on her cell and the dial tone started.  
By the time it had rung three times, the small red bar at the top of her screen flashed angrily at her and her cell faded to black.   
“No, no, no, no, no!’’ Lydia gaped at the device with disbelief, pressing the on switch over and over again, only for it to tell her she needed to charge it.  
“Fuck!’’

——-

Stiles jeep grumbled it’s way down the main street and away from Allison’s house. Scott sat beside him in the passenger seat, his arms crossed and his expression fallen into a scowl.  
“I cannot believe you actually called me up to be your sniffer dog’’.  
Stiles scoffed and pretended to act hurt, “I think you’ll actually find that your girlfriend called you, not me’’.  
“Yeah - that’s why I was stupid enough to answer’’.  
Stiles rolled his eyes and gripped the steering wheel tighter, looking out on the busy sidewalks for a familiar flash of strawberry blonde hair.  
“She’s got to be around Beacon Hills somewhere, right?’’  
Scott merely grunted and started fiddling with the dials for the car radio.   
“Dude!’’ Stiles turned the wheel suddenly, jerking the car to a stop in the mall parking lot. He batted Scott’s hands away from the important buttons and glared at him.

“Hey, best friend?! Mind helping me out? Seeing as you were the one to tell me that I’ve stupidly been ignoring the fact that Lydia may like me back after all these years?!’’  
Scott sighed and he opened the car door. He let himself out as he called back a “fine’’, to his friend. His eyes turned apologetic as Stiles joined him.  
“Please don’t shout at me - you know I hate it when you shout’’.  
“Sorry bro’’.

“Lydia wears that perfume that smells all fruity and flowery, yeah?’’ Scott sniffed the air experimentally, trying to block out the scent of horny teenagers and burnt pizza from the nearby diner.  
“Yeah, like strawberries and apples - just the tiniest hint of cherry…’’ Stiles trailed off as his best friend squinted at him.  
“Bro…’’  
“She spends the majority of her time in my bed, okay?!’’  
“Whatever’’, Scott moved towards the doors to the cinema, smelling popcorn, cherry gummy worms and the emotional scent of vulnerability.   
He sniffed again, watching as Stiles awkwardly waved to the passing couple who shuffled their curious children away from the strange boy inhaling cinema posters.  
“Well?’’  
Scott smiled, “She’s in there - they’re in there’’.  
Stiles gaped at the alpha with wide eyes, “Are you sure?!’’, he stuttered.  
“Yup, I can smell Lydia’s perfume, gummy worms, a little bit of your bedroom and a whole lot of regret and anger’’.  
“Yeah, that sounds like Lydia’’, he smiled sadly before looking up with a confused expression, “Wait, you can smell my room, me? In there?’’  
Scott nodded.  
“On her, on Lydia?’’  
He nodded again, giving his friend a shove towards the doors.  
“What about you? Don’t you need a ride home?’’ Stiles glanced towards the blacked out doors with nervous eyes and fidgeting hands.  
“Nah, I’ll be happy to jog back. I told Allison I’d pick us up some Chinese food on the way home’’, the boy grinned cheerfully and began walking backwards, away from the cinema.  
“Good luck!’’

Stiles stepped into the lobby, the multicoloured walls and mismatched carpet becoming disorienting to him under the harsh lights. He smiled and waved politely to some girls he knew from Maths class and looked around the area with hopeful expectancy. It was practically empty.   
He moved towards the screening rooms at the back and past the cafe, pausing and almost tripping over his feet as he spotted a small, curled up mass of strawberry curls.  
“Lydia?’’


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Stiles let out a slow breath, taking careful steps towards the girl who was curled around herself on one of the cafe chairs. Her head was slumped forward and she was staring down at her phones blank screen. 

“Lydia?” Stiles murmured to her softly, crouching down to her level and placing a gentle hand on her knee.

Lydia jumped slightly, tearing her eyes away from her dead phone and seeing coffee coloured eyes in front of her. She gasped.   
“Stiles!”  
The girl threw her arms around him without a second thought. Lydia buried her face in the comforting spot between Stiles’ shoulder chin, her voice catching as she tried to apologize.   
"I’m sorry", she hiccuped slightly, "I’m sorry I left this morning. I’m sorry I didn’t call".   
Stiles sighed and let his arms wrap around her, one hand finding it’s way into her curls as he held her to him.   
He tried to keep the disappointment and hurt out of his voice when he asked her, “What about being here now - with him. Are you sorry about that too?’’   
He pulled away from her slightly, watching with a sinking heart as a tear escaped from Lydia’s eye. She gazed back at him, too guilty to drop her gaze.  
The boy nodded silently towards to movie theater doors, “Is he still in there?’’  
Lydia nodded, her eyes wide and still full of tears. She almost breathed a sigh of relief when Stiles took her hand in his own and gently pulled her to her feet.  
“Let’s go talk in the jeep, yeah?’’  
Lydia let him lead her outside, the cool air stinging her flushed cheeks. The sky was a deep navy and full, grey clouds threatened to open above them. She watched with soft eyes and a softer heart as Stiles held the passenger door for, making sure she climbed in carefully before closing it with a quiet click.   
She stared at the windscreen in pretend fascination, watching as big, fat raindrops fell heavily from the sky. She sensed, rather than saw Stiles climb into the front cab beside her. Her skin warmed and the tiny hairs on her bare arms raised into goosebumps. The smell of fresh mint and rainwater invaded her space - and something else that was entirely Stiles. It was silent apart from the slow but steady beat of rain falling from the heavens, the neon signs from the diner flashing in the distance, illuminating the couple in vibrant aqua and soft pinks. Stiles pushed out a slow breath from between his lips, watching the last car leave it’s parking space beside them and leave them alone on the empty tarmac.

“Did you kiss him?’’  
Lydia started at the sound of Stiles’ voice, the silence between them and stretched on for minutes and although his words were sharp, his voice was quiet and hoarse. He cleared his throat once and turned to look at her.   
She mirrored his actions, turning in her seat to gaze over at the boy in the dark - the boy with glowing amber eyes and messy chocolate hair. His skin was bathed in neon lights and he was luminous. Her voice caught in her throat at the sight of him.   
“No”, she spoke with more strength than she felt.   
Within seconds of hearing her response, Stiles softened. His body, which was tense and rigid, melted into his seat whilst his eyes melted into liquid gold. His hands fell from their white knuckle grip on the steering wheel and instead sat fidgeting in his lap. Stiles longed to reach out to her to touch her, it seemed like an eternity since he had held her in his bed. Instead, he denied himself - he was angry with her, still upset and disappointed. Most of all, he was still completely confused.   
“I haven’t wanted to kiss him, Stiles, I haven’t wanted to kiss anyone except you’’, Lydia’s voice was almost a mumble and it was in danger of being drowned out by the steadily increasing beat of the falling rain. The windscreen was streak with water, the outside world a blurry mosaic of colours and shapes. They were trapped in the bubble of Stiles’ jeep.  
The boy accepted this and nodded slowly. He looked at his friend with narrow, curious eyes. Running a hand through his hair, he asked her the most obvious question.   
“Why are you here with him?’’  
Lydia swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to look at the boy in front of her. His pouty lips glistened as his tongue snuck out and wet them, her eyes followed every movement and her heart thudded in her chest.   
“Stiles…” Her voice was almost pleading, her chest constricted and she nibbled on her bottom lip. Lydia watched him shake his head at her, his eyes sad.   
“Don’t I deserve to know at least half of what’s going on?’’ Stiles demanded, his voice rising slightly in volume, “For the past, what? Two weeks? We’ve been wrapped around each other kissing and-’’  
He let out a harsh breath, his words were rough and his voice deepened as he continued, “I’ve made you moan my name, Lydia, okay? I’ve watched you fall apart for me in my own bed and-’’ His words stopped abruptly and his chest rose heavily and fell again. His eyes were dark as they shone at her in the darkness. All of a sudden, the jeep seemed extremely small.   
Lydia’s movements were careful and slow as she slid across to the middle seat, her leg pressing against the gear stick. Her eyes were wide as she watched an agitated Stiles slam a hand on the dashboard. She winced at the sudden noise and she longed to reach out and comfort him - she just wasn’t sure if he would let her.   
“I’m sorry, Stiles, I’m sorry - I fucked up, I know…’’ Lydia’s voice was almost a sob as she stared at her friend with wide, worried eyes, “I know-’’ Her voice broke to a faint whisper. “I knew I’d fuck this up, I’m sorry-’’

Her words, and her breath, were stolen from her lips as Stiles crashed his own into hers. Familiar warmth invaded her body as he blindly reached for her in the dark cab, his large hands finding her waist. He found her and pulled her onto his lap with ease, his hands finding comfort on her hips as Lydia straddled his legs and wound her arms around his neck - pulling him down to her level, closer to her.  
He kissed her deeply and desperately, moaning into her as Lydia opened her lips for him - his tongue seeking out her own. She tasted like the weather outside - fresh and clean and stormy and so fucking wild. Stiles’ chest rumbled against her own as he suppressed the deep groans. Outside, the rain battered against the car, each heavy raindrop matching the beat of their unsteady and erratic hearts.  
“I want you, Stiles’’  
“You have me”, he groaned in return, “You so fucking have me’’.

Stiles hands tightened on Lydia’s hips at her open submission and he called out her name as she rocked against him, whimpering at the hardness she found underneath her. Her tiny hands grappled at his shoulders, anchoring herself to him at the fear she would float away. Undeniable pleasure and need wracked her body, heat traveled across her chest and the familiar ache between her thighs surfaced.  
“Stiles’’, her words were hardly intelligible, his name was gasped breathily against his lips - only to be swallowed by the boys own moans.   
“What is it?’’ Stiles mumbled into her, his tongue snaking across her lips before reclaiming them with his own.  
“I need, I need-’’, Lydia’s voice was a sob and she groaned in frustration, her body grinding down on Stiles’ lap. He let out a hiss of breath at her actions, his hands flying to her thighs to still her movements. Instead, his hands found smooth, bare skin and his fingers brushed the edge of her skirt dangerously.   
“What do you need?’’ Stiles’ voice was low and rough and Lydia melted at the sound of it, she was almost embarrassed at the need in her voice as she rocked closer to him.  
Almost.  
“Stiles, I need you… Please, need you…’’  
“Tell me sweetheart, I’ll give you what you need’’.  
Lydia whimpered and took his hands in her own, pulling at them desperately. They moved along her legs until they disappeared under her skirt.  
“Fucking hell, Lydia, do you know what you do to me?’’ He pushed himself upwards and into her to prove his point. He was rock hard beneath her and trapped uncomfortably in his jeans.   
“I like it when you call me that’’, Lydia’s voice was breathless and her eyes fluttered at the sensations her friend was causing.  
“Yeah? You like me calling you ‘sweetheart’’? Stiles smirked against her lips.  
Lydia nodded unashamed, her cheeks pink and unable to talk anymore.  
It took Stiles merely seconds to navigate his way blindly through the layers of material that was her skirt. When his fingers met the familiar feel of lace, he smiled against her lips. He brushed his fingers over her, savoring the warmth he found. The rain roared down on them overhead, drowning out Lydia’s low whimper. Her head fell back, her eyes closed and her lips parted.  
Stiles placed wet, open mouthed kisses along her neck and jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin there. She shivered at the sensation of his teeth on her, his tongue quickly sneaking out to soothe the marks he left. One hand traced circles on her inner thigh whilst the other pulled her underwear away from her body and down her legs.

Lydia helped him do so with frantic actions, her legs getting tangled in the material and the small space. Stiles soothed her with more gentle kisses as she settled back down on top of him, her bare skin against the rough denim of his jeans. She was so turned on she almost wept at the sensation.   
“Stiles. Stiles, please, please-’’  
“Shh, I know… I know, Lydia-’’  
The boy was cut off as she attacked his lips with her own once more, her hands reaching beneath his top until she had access to his warm, hard chest. She clung to him, savoring the feel of him underneath her, against her.   
His fingers made their way back underneath her skirt whilst he held her to him with the other arm - his hand tangled in her hair as their kisses turned frantic.   
“Oh god!’’ Lydia tore her lips from his as his finger slipped inside of her before slowly drawing back out. A shiver tore through her body and she whimpered at the loss of him.  
“More, please, Stiles more - need you’’, Her words were nonsensical and she babbled into his lips, her sentences giving way to whimpers and moans.  
“More? Yeah?’’   
She nodded against his lips, nipping at them before seeking out his tongue with her own. His fingers curled into her once more and she gasped, tightening around him. Stiles held her to his body and she engulfed his senses. All he could touch, taste, smell, see was Lydia. He moved his hand faster against her, cupping her warm, damp skin as they panted into each others open mouths. The windows were blocked with condensation and the heat that radiated from them.   
“Stiles! I’m, I-’’  
Lydia came hard as she rocked her body into Stiles’ own, his hand trapped between them and her thighs. Stiles groaned at the sight of her falling apart on his lap, his own need dangerously close to tipping over the edge. He held her until her breathing slowed, his fingers rubbing small circles on her inner thigh.

The air became silent again and Lydia lay her head on Stiles’ shoulder, her lips barely brushing his neck as she breathed unsteadily. A finality lay heavily in the air and Lydia’s stomach twisted with a sudden uncertainty. Stiles was all she could feel, see and taste. He surrounded her and overwhelmed her - and the girl didn’t know how to handle it anymore. She was terrified.   
Lydia parted her lips to speak, yet she didn’t quite know what she was going to say. Before she had the chance to weigh out some words on her tongue, she was interrupted.   
“We can’t do this anymore, Lydia’’.


	15. Chapter 15

“What?”  
Stiles sighed heavily, his voice quiet and hoarse as he repeated his words in a broken whisper.  
“Lydia, I can’t. I can’t do this - this thing with you anymore…’’  
The girl frowned and dipped her head to hide her always expressive eyes from the boy. She sat in his lap, her legs on either side of his hips. Stiles felt her body tense on top of his own. The air was still and silent for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Lydia lifted her chin, allowing Stiles to meet her gaze. Her bottom lip was captured between teeth, her cheeks still flushed from his touch before.

“Why not?’’ She finally asked.  
Stiles swept a lock of strawberry blonde hair away from her face. The neon lights poured into his jeep evasively, the air turning cyan and lilac as it danced across the girls face. His words were stuck in his throat and he stuttered.

“Because, Lydia - I’m falling for you, hard, and I can’t keep doing this and then watch you walk away from me afterwards-’’  
Stiles was cut short as the girl suddenly crawled off of his lap, her long legs hitting the gear stick before she settled on the passenger seat and out of his reach. He sighed.   
“It’s not been a secret that everyone seems to think I’ve been in love with you since the third grade, Lydia. I thought I was too’’.   
Lydia tilted her head and lent against the chair, her brows dipped into a sad frown as she listened to the words that came from her best friend’s lips. 

“I thought you were gorgeous back then, I always did, still do. And I knew you were smart, amazingly so - and I loved that. But I wasn’t in love with you, not yet anyway’’. Stiles wiped a hand across his tired face.

“And then three years ago you somehow became a part of my circle of friends. A part of Scott’s pack and even through all the shit that we had to deal with, I was still in awe over the fact that we hung out’’.   
Lydia smiled slightly, her lips quirking at the boy’s words.   
“I got to know you, really know you and it was great. We were friends and we did friend stuff together and studied… and then you kissed me in the locker room. We never spoke about it and to be honest I almost thought I’d made it up. So I told myself to forget about it and that it meant nothing. Even though that killed me, Lydia, it really did’’.   
The girl opened her lips to speak, her eyes watering slightly at the sadness in her friends voice. He merely shook his head at her and continued to talk. He needed to tell her everything before his bravery faded.

“You dated Aiden and a few other guys here and there. I even got myself a girlfriend. But Lydia, when I was with Malia - either hanging out and talking or whatever - it wasn’t the same. She didn’t make me laugh like you, she didn’t leave me speechless like you, she didn’t constantly infuriate me like you did - like you still do. She was nice and I liked her - don’t get me wrong. But I knew it straight away, she wasn’t you and that was a problem’’.

“Stiles…’’

“And then when I kissed her - it was strange. You, that day in the locker room, you made everything stop. All the shitty pain from supernatural assholes, all the worrying, everything. You literally made time stop and god, Lydia, it almost killed me. Kissing Malia was nice and all, but she didn’t stop the world rotating and she didn’t make me wanna throw her over my shoulder and hide her in my room forever’’.

Lydia let out a watery chuckle at his words and the image he created for her. Her eyes teared up but she refused to let them fall, her gaze trained on the collar of Stiles’ checked shirt. She couldn’t meet his eyes. Not after what he had said to her, what he had told her. What she knew he was still to tell her.

“Lydia, my point is - I’ve known you for over a decade, we’ve been friends for three years, almost four. I’m not the kid who was so sure he knew what love was at eleven years old anymore, okay? We’ve been through a lot together - some would say too much. We’ve saved each others lives countless times and helped each other study for biology exams at four thirty on a Monday morning’’.

Stiles reached over, taking Lydia’s tiny hand in his larger one.   
“I know you love red gummy worms. You hate the left side of the bed and you look adorable when you’ve just woken up. You get drunk so easily and I know you vandalized the ‘’warning coyotes’’ sign in the forest last year. I know you’re scared but I need you to know now, I need you to know that I’m about to tell you this ‘cause I can’t just be the friend you fall into bed with when you’re drunk or bored anymore. I’m completely in love with you, Lydia. More and more every fucking day and with every goddamn kiss you give me’’.

Stiles swallowed heavily after his admission, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath he took. He watched the girl with careful eyes, her hand still captured in his own. Eternity passed before Lydia let out a slow, long exhale - her breath uneven and stuttered. Wide, green eyes rose to meet Stiles’ gaze, her own full of unshed tears.  
“Stiles, you don’t love me’’.   
“Lydia, what the fu-’’   
“You can’t love me Stiles and I can’t love you because everything will get ruined’’. The girls voice was eerily steady and calm as she spoke to Stiles. The boy sat with a slack jaw and disbelief in his eyes.   
“Lydia Martin, don’t tell me I don’t love you, don’t fucking insult me like that’’, Stiles bit out harshly, his body tense at her coolness. She seemed so distant despite the small space that was actually between them. Stiles wished nothing more to pull her back into his lap and make her see sense.   
Instead, Lydia gently but firmly removed her hand from his own.

“We live in a world where demons are real and death is round every corner, Stiles. Supernatural beings are part of our lives and monsters do hide under the fucking bed. I’m a banshee - I predict death, I’m the goddamn scorekeeper for these things - okay, Stiles? You can’t love me and I can’t love you cause bad will happen - just like it always does’’.   
“Lydia… it doesn’t work that way, you know that-’’   
“Yes it does, Stiles, we don’t live in a fairy tale in case you haven’t noticed’’.

“Yeah I’m aware of that Lydia! I’ve watched all these shitty things chase down our friends like a bad episode of ‘Scooby Doo’ as well, okay?! But guess what, we get up, brush ourselves off and keep living. What about Alison and Scott, huh? Or Ethan and Danny?’’

“It’s different, they’re different’’.   
“For fu- how, Lydia, how are they different from us?’’ Stiles voice had went from frustrated to soothing and then back to angry within minutes. His patience was long lost as Lydia refused to meet his gaze as she spoke to him monotonously. All emotion seeped from her body and left her cold inside, slightly broken and completely helpless to Stiles pleas.   
She shrugged and Stiles almost growled. Despite his rough words he gently took her chin in his hand, turning it tenderly until she met his stare. The emotions that she had tried so hard to keep out leaked back into her wide eyes and a new burst of tears made their way to the surface.   
Why did he complicate things, why couldn’t they have just stayed Special Friends…

“Lydia, you kept telling me that I can’t love you, but I do okay? I’ve never been more sure of that fact in all of the years I’ve known you. So please, don’t tell me I goddamn can’t’’, he growled.   
Lydia watched Stiles with tear stained cheeks and parted lips. She almost wept as his thumb brushed her bottom lip.   
“You also said that you can’t love me either… not that you didn’t love me. You can love me Lydia, there’s no rules against it, I promise. You just need to tell me if you do. Lydia…?’’

Blood pounded in her ears as all the oxygen in the world left her lungs, her lips, her body. She stared into the chocolate brown eyes of her best friend and felt the soft pad of his thumb brush over her lips again. She tasted salt as another tear rolled down her cheek and between her lips.   
She breathed in the fresh, minty scent that was purely Stiles, the scent that clung to his jersey that was stuffed under her pillow. She sucked in a shuddering breath and turned away from his touch and his gaze. Her body turned to stone under his stare as she faced the window.   
Her words left her body in a whisper and Lydia winced as if they had caused her genuine pain. She was almost sure they had. They burned as they caught in her throat, tasting like acid as they left her lips.   
“Just take me home, Stiles, please’’.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

The drive to Lydia’s house was silent and cold - two things that Lydia would have never used to describe her and Stiles’ relationship. The boy sat beside her, his mouth drawn into a thin line as his gaze never strayed from the road. Nights had finally settled over them, the dark skies doing nothing to appease Lydia’s sinking heart. 

She felt sick, unsettled. She stole a look, a quick glance from underneath her lashes, at Stiles. His skin looked pale in the moonlight, his normally warm eyes dark and unfocused. Tears leaked into her own.  
The ride was both painfully slow and too quick.   
Stiles pulled up outside Lydia’s house and she hesitated as she placed her hand on the door handle. Stiles killed the engine but made no move to climb out of the car. He sat looking at the steering wheel, his hands keeping their white knuckle grip.  
Lydia’s throat was painfully dry and when she spoke, her words came out cracked and desperate.

"Stiles, I’m - Stiles, I’m so sorry".

A shadow of a smile graced the boys lips, but in the dark, it appeared more like a smirk. A humourless chuckle rose from his throat and he rubbed his hands across his eyes tiredly.

"I guess I should have realised that ‘Special Friends’ really did mean just that".

Lydia frowned, her small hand reaching out to him before she decided against it and drew back.

"Friends, right? Special or not, just friends", he scoffed.

The girl shook her head sadly but the boy didn’t look in her direction to see. Instead he listened to the door open with a soft click before she climbed out.

Lydia took her time closing the jeep door carefully, all the while watching Stiles through the window. Rain fell slowly and heavily from the navy skies, matching her mood and concealing her tears.  
Still, he avoided her gaze.

Once Lydia stepped away away from the jeep and onto the safety of the sidewalk, Stiles revved the engine and peeled away from the curb with a harsh squeal.  
Lydia’s lip threatened to quiver.   
In all the years that Stiles has offered her a ride, picked her up and dropped her off… He had never, ever, drove away before making sure she made it into her house safely.

Standing outside her home, night finally fell with the cold rain. It was only then, as she watched the jeep drive into the distance, that Lydia allowed herself to cry.  
She sneaked in without much noise, her lips hidden between her teeth as she held back vicious hiccups that threatened to explode from her throat. The door clicked shut and her boots scraped against the carpet.

From the living room, the television was muted and silence fell over the Martin household.

"Lydia? Is that you, honey?"  
Her mum called from the sofa, her voice soft with sleep.

The teenager took a deep, gasping breath as swallowed the sadness in her voice.  
"Yeah… Yeah Mom - I’m just going to head to bed. Tired, um… Yeah, night!"

"Night sweetie, love you".

She responded in the same manner, her voice full of false cheer that almost killed Lydia. She made it into the safety of her bedroom before she closed the door and slumped against it, releasing her breath in violent rasps that she could hardly contain.

She stood for several minutes against the cold wood of the door, her rain damp clothes growing colder against her skin. 

Finally, with slow, wooden movements, she stripped the wet material from her skin and climbed into bed in only her underwear, the delicate lace still imprinted with Stiles touch. Under the blankets, she shivered. Checking the phone one last time, she ignored the missed calls from Allison and angry texts from Matthew.  
Lydia threw the device to the floor and thought of her best friend.

Stiles was barely aware of the red digits slowly changing on his dashboard. He sat in his driveway as the jeeps engine cooled down and the cold night air seeped into the cab. Despite the shivers that racked his body, he felt numb.  
The image of Lydia standing on the pavement in the rain was burned into his mind. He drove away from her for the first time ever.

Angrily, he slammed his fists on the wheel, the jeep groaning in response. Throwing open the door, he jumped out and into the cold rain and half ran, half jogged to the door. The empty house was dark and the wind howled instantly from outside.

Making his way upstairs, he pulled off his shirt before haphazardly chucking it through his open bedroom door, his converse soon following with heavy thuds. By the time Stiles had unbuckled his jeans and belt, he has the shower running hot water, the bathroom slowly filling up with steam.  
Stepping under the spray, he sighed. 

Bracing his arms against the cold tiles, he let his head fall forward and the water run through his hair, turning the chestnut locks to black. From inside the shower cubicle, he kept his attention to the noises outside the screen. Specifically for the sounds of a phone ringing or vibrating.

After the water turned cold, he realised he’d been lost in thought for over an hour. When he stepped out, he glared angrily at his cell that told him he had no missed calls or texts.

\--------

That week, both Stiles and Lydia ignored each other. School went from painfully awkward to completely unbearable. The pack, minus Allison and Scott, had no idea what had happened to the pair and whenever they dared to ask, a human and a banshee became suddenly much more terrifying than anything else they had ever faced.

Stiles avoided Lydia in class and in the hallway, only stealing looks at the strawberry blonde when she say far across the table from him at lunch. She mainly kept herself busy by immersing herself in textbooks and nearly taking notes.

It was only when Stiles would talk to Malia that Lydia’s head would whip up from her studies to glare at both of them with heat in her eyes.  
Stiles would simply eye her back with his face void of any emotion. Lydia hated it, this cold, unwelcoming boy reminded her so much of the Japanese spirit that had once stolen her best friend.

Angry stares and ignoring each other soon turned into childish arguments and petty name calling. Pack meetings became a war zone and caused the rest of their friends to walk around on eggshells between the two.

Planning strategies became competitions that Stiles was always eager to win and Lydia resorted to simply calling Stiles an idiot at every chance she got. And she took all of the opportunities she could.

"You’re an idiot".

Isaac sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly as Allison looked at the clock above Derek’s TV.  
1.35 in the morning.

Lydia stood beside Scott, her hair piled messily on top of her crimson head as she waved maps of Beacon Hills woodland around manically. She jabbed a painted fingernail at one set of blueprints with a satisfied smirk.

"There’s not a chance in hell we can go that way, we’d get cut off by the river and Derek’s already told us-"

"Please, I beg you, keep me out of your arguments". The older wolf piped up from the armchair he was lounging on.

Stiles stood from his seat, accidentally awakening Kira as she slept beside him. She jerked and looked around the room at her tired and bored friends guiltily.  
Running his hands through his hair, Lydia watched as it stood on end and stuck up at odd angles. Her eyes narrowed at the boy as he approached her and she became excruciatingly aware of his body warmth and his familiar scent.

"You see, princess, not everyone is put off by a little river, some people can manage to get their clothes a little dirty-“

”Princess?!”, Lydia almost shrieked, “Excuse me, Stilinski, but that ‘little river' is almost twenty feet deep and if you think-“

"We’re going by second names now, huh? That’s cute", Stiles narrowed his eyes at the girl, his own body towering over hers as he smirked sarcastically.

Scott wisely stepped away from the pair, his wide eyes meeting Allison’s as he grabbed the last slice of pizza and decided to keep quiet.

"You know, I think I preferred it when they ignored each other", Malia said in a bored tone, her face scrunched in confusion as she watched Stiles and Lydia bicker insistently with each other routes and maps.

"And I think it would be best for everyone, Malia, if you just stayed out of this, okay sweetheart?" Lydia bit out instantly at the sound of the coyotes voice, her icy worlds stunning everyone into silence.

Several seconds passed before Derek coughed awkwardly and nudged Liam awake. Scott remained speechless as he swallowed the last bite of his pizza and took to the floor once more, gathering everyone’s attention.

With a knowing look, Allison took her best friends hand and pulled her into the empty space that Scott had vacated.

"Okay", the alpha began, "Stiles and Lydia made some, uh, really good points. So… Our main concern right now is what this pack of werewolves want. For all we know they could just be passing through".

Liam nodded at Scott’s words while Isaac rolled his eyes, stealing the chip out of Kira’s hand as she batted him on the shoulder.

"Derek and I will check out the river situation tomorrow, there might be a vantage point from that angle, who knows. Once we can get some more information on this pack, I want everyone to stay away and keep safe, got it?"

Everyone nodded and murmured their agreements as they gathered jackets and bags. Stifling yawns, they said their goodbyes to Derek and filed out the door. Lydia hugged everyone goodbye, waving awkwardly to Malia before turning away from Stiles, hearing him scoff at her turned back only made her heels click that little bit faster on the pavement as she walked to her car.

It didn’t escape her attention that Malia hopped happily into the front seat of the jeep, before Stiles peeled away from Derek’s building and down the empty road.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

The next day at school was slow paced and unbearably long for Stiles. The morning started with lacrosse practice and each glance at the bleachers reminded the boy of Lydias ever growing absence in his life.  
Allison was perched on the empty benches with Kira and her textbooks to keep her company. Lydia was nowhere to be found. 

Stiles sighed heavily as he threw the ball back and forth to Scott with more anger than he usually had. Scott simply shook his head at his friend, ripping off his pads as Coach blew his whistle to signal the end of the period.  
Jogging to catch up with his Stiles, he have Isaac and quick and knowing look that meant "give us a minute?".  
Isaac nodding in understanding, clapped Stiles on the back and headed off for the changing rooms. 

"Dude, why don't you just talk to her? You know, actually talk instead of arguing?"  
Stiles shook his head and pursed his lips in frustration.

"You don't get it, Scott, what she said to me - after everything - after being friends for years and being there for each other and all the fucking making out and fooling arou-", Stiles groaned and rubbed his eyes tiredly.  
"I can't stop thinking about her man, I want to strangle her and throw her back in my bed all at once". He laughed humorlessly. 

Scott smiled tightly in response, sympathy radiating from him as he bumped his shoulder into his friend playfully.  
"And of course you wouldn't want to make her your girlfriend and be able to actually  
interact with her in public or anything..."

"Dude, I'd get down on one knee for that girl tomorrow". 

The boys both chuckled despite Stiles serious tone.  
"Just talk to her, man. Allison usually tells me to ignore what she says half of the time... Apparently girls pretty much want the opposite of what they actually said. Crazy, right?"

Stiles nodded his agreement as he threw open the door of the changing rooms, exchanging greetings with guys he knew from classes as he walked to his locker.  
The alpha and the human continued to get changed as the rest of the team flooded out of the doors.  
Scott kept up his positive chatter of how everything would be fixed if Stiles just spoke to the girl.  
Eventually, his upbeat attitude wore thin on Stiles glum mood and he closed his locker with more force that needed.  
"Scott, you don't get it!"  
He stopped mid speech to look at Stiles with raised eyebrows, however, he paused and allowed his friend to continue.  
"That night, at the cinema... I told her, fuck - I told Lydia I was falling in love with her". 

Scott stood with his bag hanging loosely from his shoulder, his mouth agap and his eyes wide.  
"And?"

"And, she told me to take her home. She said that I couldn't possibly love her and she told me to take her home". 

"She didn't say it back?"

"No, Scott", Stiles picked up his back and threw it over his shoulder with a heavy sigh. He dropped his eyes, avoiding his best friends gaze as he admitted the words that had torn him apart for over a week, "she didn't say it back".

Scott followed Stiles out of the changing room and into the emptying hallway with less enthusiasm than he had before. Watching the way his friends head dropped and shoulders slumped pained him.  
"You know that she does right? Lydia does love you... Anyone can see it".

"I guess everyone else is a lot more perceptive than I am". 

 

The bell rang for the end of the day and Stiles headed straight for the main doors, bypassing his locker and digging furiously in his pockets for his car keys.  
He made it to the jeep without any sign on Lydia, not once that day had he spotted her head of familiar auburn hair.  
She had skipped lunch and Allison had guilty told the boy that she didn't know where Lydia was.  
Stiles had simply shrugged in defeat and returned to his half eaten lunch. 

Just as he was starting the engine, a knock rapped against his window and his heart leapt.  
He turned and squinted through the bright sunshine to see Malia standing outside the door, waving and grinning happily. His heart quickly returned to the depths of his rib cage and he felt bad for a second.  
He liked Malia, despite their failed attempt at a relationship. She was a nice girl and she had made Stiles sort of happy once. 

Her rolled down his window and managed to stretch his lips into a small, welcoming smile for her.  
"What can I do for you, Malia?"

"Okay so, Kira told me it would be rude to ask but I'm just going to anyway, okay?"

Stiles managed a real chuckle at her bluntness and honesty, and he prompted her to proceed with raised eyebrows and a wave of his hand.

"Could you give me a lift to Isaac's again? I hate getting on the back of that motorbike and I know you gave me a ride after Derek's the other night and I shouldn't be asking again but-"

Stiles stopped her rambling with another laugh and told her good naturedly to hop in. The coyote grinned in thanks and skipped round to the other side of the jeep.  
After making sure she was buckled in, Stiles checked his mirrors and eased out of the space. An alluring glint of scarlet caught his attention from the main steps and he almost slammed harshly on the brakes in order to gape openly. 

Lydia stood at the school doors, her books clutched to her chest and her long curls positively glowing in the afternoon sun. Her full lips were parted slightly and her brow was furrowed as she watched Stiles without any embarrassment. It was the first time he had seen her since yesterday afternoon. She looked tired, her normally emerald eyes were dull and full of so many conflicting emotions that Stiles couldn’t decipher them.  
Then, as Stiles jeep slowly turned the corner, she hopped quickly down the stairs and out of his eyeline.  
The boy swore under his breath and jerked the jeep forcefully out of the parking lot and towards Isaac's. He knew exactly where he was driving too after dropping Malia off.

“Lydia, Stiles is here to see you’’.  
Those seven words made the girl bolt upright from her position on her bed, her eyes wide and her lips parted. She swore softly into her cell phone, making Allison question her words.  
“What? What is it?’’  
“Shit, Allison, he’s here’’.  
“What? Who, who’s there Lydia?’’ Her friend sounded frustrated at not knowing what was happening, the brunette was still confused at how the conversation had quickly moved away from planning a dinner out together. 

“Give me a minute Mom, I’m, uh, I’m getting changed!’’ Lydia swore once more as she quickly scrambled off of the mattress, fluffing out her hair as she still managed to hold the phone to her ear.  
Allison was still on the other end, growing increasingly agitated at the passing seconds.

“Oh my God, Lydia, who the fu-’’

“It’s Stiles! Allison, it’s Stiles and he’s outside my room and I haven’t spoken to him in days and I am freaking out”.

There was silence on the other end as her friend processed this information. Lydia bit her lip as she impatiently waited for advice, her ears picking up the slight sounds the boy made in the hallway as he shuffled around.

“Just kiss him’’.

“What?!’’

“Seriously, just go for it - climb that boy like you know you want to, I promise-’’

“You are no help at all!’’

“Just grab his face and just-’’

“I’m hanging up now”.

Lydia pressed the button to end the call without any further goodbyes and moved to open her bedroom door. She prayed and prayed that the boy standing outside hadn’t heard anything that was said.  
Her stomach flipped as she placed a hand on the doorknob, her heart beating furiously in her chest and her mouth turned dry. Swearing under her breath, she mentally told herself to pull herself together. It was only Stiles. He was only a boy.

He was the boy that smelled so good, so clean and fresh and familiar. The boy that towered over her and made her feel so safe. The boy whose lips did wonderfully sinful things to her own, whose lips would trail across her neck and nip at her jaw.  
She shuddered and took a deep breath, reminding herself that she was mad at him; angry at Stiles for ignoring and avoiding her, for leaving her alone and taking her home that night and… doing exactly what she had asked him to do.  
Tears sprung to her eyes with such suddenness that she surprised herself. Lydia was well aware of her words and actions that night. She knew fine well that she had brought this on herself.

But she was terrified, terrified of letting Stiles get any closer than he already was. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him - their friendship meant too much to her. Lydia almost snorted at the irony of her musings, she had already pushed him away, he must hate her.

She shook the notion from her head, remembering those chocolate eyes that would always melt for her. If Stiles hated her, would he be here now? Outside her door?  
On that last thought, she broke out of her own mind, the words and worries forgotten about as she threw open the door before she changed her mind.

“Hi”.

Stiles startled, almost forgetting that he was waiting on the girl, he was ready to walk away and accept that she didn’t want to see him.  
He stood tall in front of her, his hair longer than the last time they had been alone together and Lydia fought the urge to run her hands through it, to grip the nape of his neck and pull his lips down to meet her own.  
He smiled slightly, the familair warmth returning to his eyes before it disappeared once more, almost as if he remembered that they were arguing.  
“Hey...’’

Lydia stood to the side to allow him access to her room and she held her breath as he swept past her, his scent filling her senses. Her body practically craved everything about him. The girl looked down at her bare feet on the carpet as he entered, waiting until he found a seat on the edge of her bed.  
She mentally cursed herself for choosing tonight to wear the baggiest and ugliest pair of sweatpants that she owned.

The door closed with a soft click and Lydia took a few deep, calming breaths before turning around to face the boy with a neutral expression placed on her face. The room was bathed in silence and filled with tension. The sun outside slowly slipped away from the evening sky, bringing on the cooler night and darker skies.  
Lydia finally met the boy’s gaze and she bit her lip and raised an eyebrow expectantly. She refused to speak for fear that if she did, her voice would crack and her words would turn to tears. She would not become weak.

Stiles didn’t know it was possible to describe a situation as sexually uncomfortable until now. Lydia stood only four feet from him, her tiny body hidden from him in gray sweatpants and the tightest tank top that he tried hard to ignore.  
He longed to reach out to her, to hold her and press his lips to hers, to urge her to open up to him. He wanted to hear her sighs and moans, for her to whisper his name into his skin. He just wanted to see her smile.

“I think we need to talk’’.  
Stiles broke the silence with quiet words, his own voice rough and low. The sound vibrated through Lydia and she closed her eyes at the sensation. For the past two weeks, she had only heard his voice in loud, agitated tones that were directed at her.

“I think we need to talk about that night… and what I said and what you… didn’t say. Lydia-’’

“I don’t want to talk Stiles, not about that night’’, the girl raised her hands and ran them through her mussed curls. Taking deep breaths, she urged herself not to cry, to not get upset. “I told you, I can’t say - that - I can’t pretend that we can live happily ever after and nobody will get hurt’’.

Stiles muttered a curse and wiped at his face in exhaustion, frustrated already at her negative words and attitude.  
“Lydia, we can do and be whatever want, okay? But I can’t go on like we have, I can’t pretend that I don’t miss you, I can’t pretend that ignoring you is normal. I hate fighting’’, he sighed, “I miss you”, Stiles repeated.

Lydia nodded and ignored the fact that her eyes were filling up with tears, “I miss you too’’.

Stiles let go of the breath he didn’t realise he was holding, relief filling his body as the girl showed him some emotion once again. She missed him too. He could accept that happily. 

“But, Stiles, can’t we just - I don’t know - just go back to normal?’’

The boy raised his gaze from his hands to the girl at her words, his chestnut eyes drinking her in. “What’s normal, Lydia?’’

Lydia shrugged helplessly, her words finally failing her as she fought to express what ‘normal’ was to her and Stiles. How did she even begin to describe their relationship? They were more than friends, they always had been - even before that first kiss and the fooling around. Stiles kept her on edge and made her feel safe at the same time. He sent her heart and mind spinning but still managed to pull her back down to earth and keep focused. He was something that Lydia had never knew she needed, or wanted, before. Stiles was something else entirely. But he was her something, she knew that much.

Stiles slowly rose to his feet and stood before her, still gazing down at her with that curious expression. “Well, Lydia? What’s normal, huh? What does that mean for us?’’

She was about to tell him that that was an extremely good question but the words were stuck in her throat as he took a slow but deliberate step towards her.  
“Nothing coming to mind?’’ Another purposeful step.  
She shook her head.

By the time Stiles stood only inches from her, Lydia’s back was pressed against the hard wood of the door and her mind flew back to the last time they were in this postion. Her heart rate picked up and she licked her lips at the memory, her body practically expecting his lips on hers.  
A ghost of a smile traced the boy’s lips, as if he was reading her mind or his own was thinking back to the same day.

Stiles placed his large hands on Lydia’s small waist; the thin material of her tank top doing nothing to diffuse the heat from his skin and the roughness of his palms. She felt her cheeks flush as his body moved into her own. Stiles let out a groan as their hips became flush and Lydia instantly arched closer.  
“Is this normal, Lydia?’’ Stiles ground the words almost angrily, his frustrations - both emotional and sexual - now sky high. 

Lydia closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the door with a dull thud, her own tiny hands finding their way to Stiles’ chest without any thought. She bunched the material of his shirt in her fists, keeping him there against her as if she was terrified he might run away.  
She felt, rather than seen, the tip of his nose run along the strong line of her jaw, his light breath tickling her skin and the stubble of his cheeks grazing her neck. She gasped and her body became engulfed in heat. She had missed this, she had missed him.  
The feel of him, solid and tall and warm and so, very real in front of her.  
She whimpered impatiently and opened her eyes to meet the dark, hooded pair of Stiles. 

“Is this us? Our friendship, huh Lydia? Are you telling me this, what you feel right now, is normal?’’

An internal battle waged between Lydia’s mind and body. She was adamant to stick to her words, as painful as they were, she was determined that they were true. She was so sure that nothing good could come from freely allowing herself to fall for Stiles. Only hurt and eventual pain.  
On the other hand, she was completely desperate for him, more so than she had ever felt for anyone before. Her body screamed at her, her green eyes taking in his lips that were so tantalizingly close.

She gaped helplessly, no words forming in her mind or coming from her lips as she tried to articulate an answer to throw back at Stiles.  
“Just kiss me’’.

Lydia let out a groan as she watched Stiles’ eyes darken before her own at her words. He bit his lips before allowing himself to smile - a slow, half smirk that made Lydia’s knees weaken.  
“You want me to kiss you?’’

The girl could only nod, her fight and resolve flying out of the window and into the quiet night sky. Stiles hands dropped for her waist and she almost cried out in frustration and disappointment. Lydia’s despair was cut short as the boy took her hands in his own and gently removed her grip from his shirt. Without missing a beat, he brought her captured hands up and pinned them against the door - his body now completely against her own. They both moaned unabashedly at the contact that they had both been craving for weeks. 

“Then tell me, Lydia, tell me that this isn’t normal’’, he kissed at her neck between words, revelling in the way she arched into him, granting him all the access to her skin that he wanted.

“Stiles…’’

“Tell me that we’re just friends and nothing more - that you feel nothing more than that for me. Say it Lydia, prove me wrong’’, his words trailed off into a hoarse murmur as doubt slowly creeped it’s way into his head. He kissed. licked and nipped at her jaw; each kiss coming closer to her mouth until he tasted the corner of her lips and nearly lost what little control he had.

“Stiles, kiss me, please, please, plea-’’

“Tell me, sweetheart’’.

“This isn’t normal, okay?! I know that, I know that I’m not supposed to want my friend like this. I know you’re not supposed to make me feel the way I do. It’s not normal that I miss you as soon as you leave me’’, Lydia let out the words in a sudden, breathy gasp. They flooded from her lips uncontrollably and her forehead fell forward to lean against Stiles’ as they gazed at each other with the manic desperation they both felt. 

Her words flew from her lips into his own and he drank them in like vodka.  
“I know we’re more than friends, I just don’t know what yet… but I miss you, Stiles, I’ve missed you so much and that terrifies me - it makes me so scared and I don’t know-’’.

Stiles crushed his lips to her own and swallowed all the doubts she once thought. His hands freed hers from their prison and Lydia was quick to delve them into his mess of hair with satisfaction.  
She curled her body around the boy as she stood on her tiptoes, desperate to bring her lips closer to his than they already were. She drank in his scent, the taste of him that made her dizzy.

With one sweeping motion, Stiles lifted her small frame into his own and pushed her against the door - her legs curling around his waist like they did it all the time. He licked at her lips impatiently but didn’t even have to wait a second before they parted willingly for him. Their tongues danced and fought for dominance, their frustrated and emotional words haunting their kisses.

Lips became rougher and Lydia’s touches became frantic as she grasped at the material of Stiles’ shirt. She pulled greedily, her hands seeking out the warm, hard planes of muscles underneath. Stiles groaned into her mouth at the touch and he responded similarly, his own hands searching for the bare skin underneath her top. His long fingers skimmed the underside of her breasts and Lydia was sure he could feel her racing heart. They panted into each other’s open lips and it was only then that they heard Stiles’ cell ringing from his jeans pocket. 

The mood momentarily broken, Lydia bit her bottom lip somewhat guiltily and allowed herself to slip down Stiles’ body until her toes touched the floor.  
Stiles cleared his throat and pulled his cell out without any words, cringing at the screen. Lydia was almost too busy looking at Stiles kiss swollen lips to notice the brightly lit screen. However, when she did, she saw Malia’s name flashing impatiently back up at her.


	18. Chaper Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors - this was written and posted via my phone. Not the post elegant writing tool.

Lydia stared down at Stiles’ phone, that one name flashing insistently into the dim room. She let out the breath she hadn’t know she was holding, her eyes flickering with the hurt and jealousy she felt burning inside her chest.   
It seemed an age before Stiles hit the red button on his cell, ignoring the call and effectively silencing the device. He shifted from foot to foot, his body still close enough to the girls to allow her to feel the tension he held in it.   
His breath was warm and it still fell in heavy gasps that caused the curls on the top of her head to flutter. Lydia tasted him on her lips, his hands left burns on the bare skin across her waist and her chest constricted every time she caught scent of his aftershave; the clean, fresh smell of him that did things to her body she would never dare admit.

The room was filled with silence and a tension so thick, that Stiles felt it press against his skin like a heavy weight. The boy saw how Lydia had frowned at the interruption, the hurt that flashed across her eyes as she saw who was calling him. She had moved away from him slightly, only by an inch. Their bodies still touched and Stiles could bend his head and place his lips on hers again, but he didn’t - they needed to talk. He knew that.

Lydia didn’t want to talk. She was afraid to speak. She didn’t dare open her mouth in fear of more honest words spilling out. The boy in front of her was her something, she just didn’t know what that something was quite yet.  
Lydia was disorientated, confused and feeling totally helpless - she had no intention of letting Stiles know all of that just yet.

So with her body still burning from unresolved lust and lingering jealously, she stepped away from Stiles and moved to her bed, her fingertips skimming the cool sheets. Gazing up at him from underneath her lashes, she locked eyes with a wary looking Stiles, a smirk playing on her lips.  
Slowly and sensually, she played with the waistband of her sweatpants; pulling the material away from her hipbones - just enough for Stiles to see a flash of black lace. He groaned, stepping away from the ticking bomb that was Lydia. His back hit the door that he previously had his best friend pressed up against.

Still pretending that she was wearing something sexier than comfy sweats, Lydia continued to look up at Stiles, waiting for him to stop her, to touch her, to join her. Instead, the boy stayed silent, his hands balled into fists at his sides and his brown eyes turning into liquid gold as the burned into her skin.   
Skin, which she was exposing more of. With a tiny shimmy of her hips, Lydia pulled the offending fabric away from her body, the cotton slipping over her hipbones and gliding down the curve of her ass. Stiles cursed under his breath as more smooth, silky skin greeted him, and when he spoke, his voice cracked.

“Lydia, stop’’.

Lydia’s eyes flicked upwards, her gaze landing confidently on Stiles. The corner of her lips quirked upwards in a hidden smile as she took in the boy’s appearance. One hand was splayed in the mess of his hair, his grip tightening on his locks as Lydia gave another sway of her hips. His eyes were hooded and his gaze roamed over her body, greedy for her after all the day’s he spent away from her.   
His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and he licked his lips, attempting to speak once more without sounding like a broken man. Which he was - Stiles was well aware of that, thank you. 

“Lydia… we need to stop. You need to stop, we need to speak - to talk, like adults. We are adults’’, Stiles closed his eyes as he spoke, figuring that the less naked Lydia he seen, the more sense he would make.  
Lydia pursed her lips as he chattered aimlessly, his words stumbling over each other in the most adorable way. 

The girl waited until Stiles opened his eyes once more and she made sure he met her gaze before she told him confidently, “I don’t want to talk, Stiles, not right now’’.  
And with one more soft tug, the sweats fell to the floor in a puddle.   
Black lace hugged Lydia’s curves and Stiles was dangerously close to having an aneurysm. She stepped daintily out of the material, kicking it to the side before she took three careful steps towards Stiles.  
Lydia was sure to keep some space between them, if he reached out from his spot against the door, he wouldn’t be able to touch her. He would have to move, Stiles would have to give in and come to her - which is exactly what Lydia wanted. The strawberry blonde needed that tiny bit of control back in her life. Just a little - just enough to make her forget how Stiles could bring her to her knees with one touch. 

Lydia swayed on the spot, her hips moving just enough to cause the hem of her t-shirt to shift - showing more skin underneath and the pretty little bow on the edge of her underwear. Stiles swallowed heavily, his teeth biting his bottom lip into his mouth as he fought a moan. Instead, his chest rumbled and Lydia’s eyes lit up at the sound. She was desperate for him and rubbing her thighs together just wasn’t causing enough friction.

But , the girl reminded herself, she was in control. Standing up at her full height, Lydia fought the urge to stand on her toes to make herself taller. She pulled her shoulders back and brought her hands to the hem of her top, grinning as she noticed how Stiles’ dark eyes followed her every movement. 

Stiles watched as Lydia’s fingers grazed her stomach before capturing the hem of her shirt. She played with it for a few seconds, he teeth chewing thoughtfully on her full, bottom lip as she plotted her next move. Stiles almost dropped to his knees and prayed to a higher source - for which outcome he wasn’t sure. He was still set in his ways, he knew that he needed to talk to Lydia about their relationship - Stiles was certain that Lydia needed to speak to him - she needed to stop avoiding her feelings.  
But now, with five foot, three inches of strawberry blonde sin in front of him, the last thing Stiles wanted to do was talk.  
And when Lydia slowly but surely peeled her top of her body, Stiles caved. In only lace underwear and a matching bra, Lydia stood in the middle of her bedroom, her auburn locks wild around her flushed face and her chest heaving with tension and nerves. With a smile that Stiles knew was real, the girl quirked one perfectly shaped eyebrow at him in an unspoken question. 

“Fuck it”, was Stiles’ response.

Like they seemed to do every day of knowing each other, Stiles and Lydia crashed together. Before they had stumbled carelessly into the edge of the bed, Lydia had pulled Stiles' top off with a ferocious desperation. Stiles complied, shrugging out of the material whilst trying in vain to keep his lips firmly attached to the girls, his hands wandering impatiently across the expanse of Lydia's back, his rough palms mapping out the dip in her waist, the small curve of her stomach. Stiles sighed into her parted lips, Lydia's teeth nipping at his own as she tangled her arms around his neck.   
This wasn't the way Stiles had intended this to go, but he was past arguing


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANGST AHEAD. Sorry, I’m a terrible person, I know. Bring on all the messages telling me how evil I am!   
> #Herefortheslowburn.

Stiles was a flood of thoughts, feelings and emotions as he moved across Lydia’s body. His hands traced rough patterns into her bare skin as he trailed his fingertips across the black lace that hugged her hips.   
His mind reeled as Lydia responded with a small moan that he captured with his lips, his own grunt following shortly when the girl lifted her hips into his own. He pressed into her, revelling in the way her small arms wrapped round his neck tightly - Lydia pulled him down to meet her feverish kisses, her nails scraping deliciously against his scalp. 

  
They were a mess of limbs on the bed and when Lydia’s small hands reached down to fumble blindly with Stiles’ belt, the boy tore their lips apart to breathe out a curse, his head dropping into the crook of Lydia’s neck.  
He placed soft kisses there, his teeth nipping at her sensitive skin when she finally managed to undo the buckle and sneak her fingertips into the waistband of his boxers. Her knuckles skimmed across his hipbones and Lydia felt his abdominal muscles clench in response. She stroked him through the material of his underwear, whimpering into the cool, night air as he thrust into her.   
Stiles panted under her touch, his lips capturing Lydia’s once more as he rolled into her, his hand gripping her thigh almost too tightly as he brought it up to drape over his hip.   
  
They melted into the bed, their lips working slowly and deeply against each other. Heat radiated from their bodies and Lydia was surprised, and almost impressed, when Stiles unhooked her bra, dragging the lace from her body and discarding it off the side of the bed.   
  
“Oh, shit’’, her words were a curse and a prayer when Stiles dropped his head to her chest, his lips placing kisses and licks across every piece of sensitive skin he could access.   
With the rough denim of the boy’s jeans still digging into her bare skin, Lydia growled impatiently, her feet desperately trying to shrug the material down his legs. Stiles chuckled into her skin at her actions, his teeth nipping along her collarbone. After another struggled sigh, he gave in. Stiles crawled up and off of her body - instantly missing the feel of the girl against him. Lydia, too, whimpered at the loss of contact; making Stiles heart soar and his chest throb.   
He gazed at her as he stood and struggled to drag his trousers off of his slim hips and down his legs. She was a vision beneath him, a strawberry blonde siren, a fucking wet dream and the love of his goddamn life, all rolled into one.   
  
She lay in only that one scrap of black lace, the material hugging her hips and that little bow taunting him from below her belly button. He swore under his breath, stumbling a little as he kicked his jeans away from his feet, never taking his eyes off of Lydia.   
Stiles was desperate to sink his hands into her mane of auburn curls, the long locks that looked like liquid fire on her crisp, white pillows.   
She gazed right back up at him, her wide eyes full of lust and excitement, and something else that Stiles was pretty sure he now knew.  
  
“Stiles…”, Lydia trailed off softly, her words impatient and breathy. Stiles almost keeled over right then. It didn’t matter, he had realised, how many times he would get to kiss Lydia, to see her naked body or touch her in all the most maddening places - he would never get over it. Stiles would never tire of her lips, her small body against his and the feel of her wrapped around him.   
He loved her. And just like two weeks ago, on that fateful night in the jeep, he was still pretty damn sure she loved him too.   
  
So he stopped.  
  
Stiles sat down on the edge of the bed, his lean body capturing Lydia’s attention in ways she wished it wouldn’t. His muscles rippled as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair.  
Instantly, Lydia sat up, knowing the signs of distress when it came to Stiles. She placed a hand on his back, gently trailing her fingers across his skin in an act of comfort.  
  
“What’s wrong?’’ Lydia’s voice was softer than her touch and soon her lips fell onto his shoulder, her lips parting to place soothing kisses there.   
Stiles sighed, sitting up and leaning into the girl, their foreheads touching. He stroked his thumb across her cheek, watching in awe as he trailed it across her full bottom lip. She placed another peck to it too, with no hesitation and concern in her eyes.  
  
“Stiles?’’  
  
“I’m so in love with you, Lydia’’.

Stiles watched as the girls eye lit up and widen to an almost impossible size. She bit her lip before parting her lips. Stiles wasn’t surprised when no words came from her, so instead, he continued.   
He turned fully to face the girl, pulling the sheet from her bed in order to wrap it round her frame. Planning what he was going to say was difficult enough without Lydia’s naked body in his eyesight.   
  
He took one of her tiny hands in his own, his eyebrows raised in surprise as she allowed him to despite his last words. He stroked a thumb across the back of her hand and she squeezed back, a small, sad smile lifting one corner of her mouth.  
  
“Lydia, I want you. You know that - it’s impossible for you not to’’, Stiles voice was hoarse from kissing, his words broken and cracked. “I don’t just want you for this though’’, he gestured between their unclothed bodies.  
  
“Stiles, I know that - I know you wouldn’t -’’, Lydia started to speak, her eyes full of worry.   
  
The boy quickly cut her off, bringing her hand to his lips to quickly place a reassuring kiss there. “It’s okay - I know you know that’’, he smiled, “I’m just trying to tell you that I want other things too, I want more’’.  
  
Lydia frowned slightly, not really understanding his meaning. So she waited patiently for him to continue. Stiles took a deep breath, and then, he spoke.  
“I want wake up and know that I’ll be able to go to school and get to kiss you by your locker. I want to take you out to dinner and hold your hand, I want to make you feel better when you’re sad and look after you when you’re ill and only want to eat pizza and watch _The Notebook’’_ , Stiles met her wide, soft eyes with his own sad pair.   
“I want to protect you from all the horror movies you hate, I want to argue with you about Star Wars and who gets the right side of the bed. I want you to steal all my shirts and moan at me for doing stupid stuff with Scott. I want to call you my girlfriend. I want to be able to tell you I love you every **goddamn** day and I want you to be brave enough to say it back’’, Stiles’ voice had turned hopeless, his face portraying nothing but confusion and hurt.   
  
“Cause I know you do, Lydia. I know you love me too. Not because you kiss me and we fool around… I know, because, well - I know you _really_ fucking well’’, he smiled sadly and Lydia couldn’t help the tears that gathered in her eyes.  
“You threw yourself in front of me when Scott dropped that flare. You were the first and last person I saw every day when I was in hospital after the car crash. Everything from the Nogitsune attack is a blur to me, except you - I always remembered you being there, next to me, holding my hand, shouting out to me’’.  
  
Lydia was almost trembling, his words doing more than he realised as they made her remember how she felt those times.  
  
Stiles moved closer, his hands capturing her cheeks gently as he turned her head to look at him. His fingers danced across her skin, a small smile tugging at his lips.  
“You brought me back from the fucking dead, Lydia - you know there’s something inside of us that can’t cope without the other. For a long time, I thought that was purely based on supernatural incidents. But now, after these past weeks, after everything… “, Stiles shook his head.  
  
“I love you, Lydia, okay? Don’t tell me I don’t - not again. I know we live in a dark world - we know that better than anyone. But I know this can work, we can work - cause in this shitty life, you’re the one thing that makes everything so much better. You don’t have to tell me you love too - but you can tell me if you don’t’’.   
  
Stiles slowly let his hands fall away from Lydia’s face and the girl felt cold and lost without his touch. He sat across from her, his eyes trained carefully on her face to watch for signs of anger.  
He didn’t see any.   
  
“You can tell me right now, if I’m wrong. Lydia, you can tell me that no, you don’t love me - and I’ll walk away. We’ll go back to being friends - but this has got to stop’’, he tugged gently at the sheet that covered her almost naked body, “I can’t keep doing this knowing that you won’t be there the next morning. It’s killing me’’, Stiles voice was low and rough.  
“There’s no such thing as Special Friends, Lydia, if it’s causing us to ignore each other for two weeks at a time’’.   
  
The silence seemed to stretch on for almost a decade and Stiles was ready to reach for his clothes when Lydia lunged at him.  
Still wrapped in the white bedsheet, the girl threw herself forward and into the boy’s lap, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him to her in a fierce hug. Stiles held her there with a relieved sigh, his lips ghosting across the bare skin of her shoulder.  
When Lydia finally spoke, her voice was quiet and hoarse - her throat tight from the tears she was trying to hold back.  
  
“The last time I told someone I loved them, my Dad picked up his bags anyway and walked out the door. I sat at the window for hours hoping he’d come back. I even begged my Mom to leave the door unlocked that night, incase he needed to come home. She let me, but, in the morning - he still wasn’t there’’, Lydia sniffed and Stiles held her tighter, his body flush with her own.  
“The time before that, I told the boy I had practically grew up with that I loved him and he told me I was dragging him down. He laughed at me for thinking we’d graduate high school still together. He proved me wrong when he got on a plane to London and never spoke to me again’’.  
  
Stiles closed his eyes at her words, the words that were so similar to what Scott had told him when giving him advice. He ran his hand through her hair, stopping at the nape of her neck to rub soothing circles into her skin.  
“Lydia - I won’t leave you-’’  
  
“I know you wouldn’t Stiles - not intentionally, not cruelly like them’’, her breath stuttered in her chest and her next words stuck in her throat like poison, “But what if something happened, what if you got hurt?’’ She trailed off and took a harsh breath.  
“Stiles, I’m not saying that I don’t…’’ Lydia spoke to the skin on his neck, her lips brushing his shoulder as she closed her eyes. She felt the boy tense underneath her.  
  
“But I can’t say those words back, I just can’t, _I’m so sorry_ ’’, Lydia was almost crying now and something inside her broke when she felt Stiles arms slacken, dropping away from her body at a painfully slow pace.  
She lifted her head to look at him, finally, and when she did - she wished he hadn’t. Lydia let out small, quiet sob at the dejected look on Stiles’ face, the confusion in his eyes and the tension in his still naked chest.  
  
With no words, he quietly stood, shifting the girl from his lap as he gathered his clothes and slipped them back on - all without meeting her eyes.  
He walked to the door and stopped, rubbing his hands tiredly over his face before eventually meeting Lydia’s gaze. His voice was eerily polite and strained when he spoke.  
“I understand. It’s fine - I get it Lydia, I really do. It still hurts’’, he laughed humorlessly and reached for the door handle, doing his best to ignore the tears that were freely falling across the girl’s cheeks.  
  
“Just friends, right?’’ He gave a quick, tight smile that fooled no one - not even himself - and he walked out of the door, closing it with a soft click behind him.  
  
Lydia waited fifteen minutes until she finally heard the sound of the jeep pulling away from her drive. For fifteen minutes she sat crying, at war with herself. She had pulled her sweatpants back on and shrugged her shirt back over her head - willing herself to move, to walk downstairs and go to him. To tell the boy the words she so badly wanted to say, the words that she did really feel.  
  
Instead, when the headlights finally fell away from her window and the sound of Stiles’ car couldn’t be heard any longer, she found her phone in the mess of bed sheets and called Allison.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Lydia was still crying when Allison barged into her room, her arms instantly going round her best friend’s trembling body. The girls sunk down onto Lydia’s, messy, unmade bed together as Allison rocked the strawberry blonde slowly, her lips making soothing noises as she held her.  
It took Lydia almost twenty minutes before her sobs slowed to hiccups, and by that point, Allison was lying behind her on the mess of pillows, her arms curled around the girls tummy and her forehead leaning against her shoulder. Allison waited patiently, feeling Lydia finally stop trembling before she asked softly, “What happened?’’

“He left’’, Lydia’s voice was hollow and her words cut her own throat like a knife. She was in pain, the ache in her chest screamed at her and her watery eyes stung.  
Allison was silent, sensing that the girl wasn’t done explaining; instead, she rubbed a soothing palm down Lydia’s arm - frowning at how cold her skin felt.

“He left because he told me he loved me’’, she choked back a sob that had risen from her chest, “And I’m so fucking damaged, I couldn’t even say it back’’. A cry broke from her lips that she couldn’t help any longer. She embraced the tears as Allison did the same to her; her friend gathering her by the shoulders and hauling Lydia into her chest. The girls swayed together as Lydia cried and the huntress smoothed back her friend’s tangled curls.

It seemed like an hour had passed when Allison spoke sleepily into Lydia’s hair, her voice only a murmur.  
“You’re not damaged - you know that right?’’  
Lydia broke from her daze, her puffy eyes staring at the slow moving hands of the clock. She turned to face the girl, her voice hoarse and scratchy when she asked, “what?’’.

Allison smiled sadly, flicking Lydia on the nose in the hopes that she would smile. She didn’t. The girl sighed and explained.  
“Lydia, you’re not damaged. You’re one of the strongest, bravest people I know. And I know a few werewolves very well’’, Allison raised her eyebrows smugly to prove her point. Lydia merely rolled her eyes in response, flopping back into the pillows as her friend continued.

“You didn’t say the words because you’ve spent years protecting yourself from them. Shitty things have happened to you, and you’ve been hurt by people you love’’, Allison’s voice turned soft and understanding filled her words, “And that’s okay, you know? It doesn’t make you weak. You’re allowed to protect yourself - God knows we all need to’’.

Allison tugged one of Lydia’s curls playfully until the banshee turned to look at her with a sad frown on her face. “You love him, don’t you?’’

Lydia didn’t hesitate when she nodded, another rogue tear streaking across her cheek. Her eyes stung and her throat closed up as she remembered how Stiles had looked as he walked away from her, as he had told her how he loved her - and she had sat in silence.  
Lydia swore aloud and sat up, her heart throbbing in her chest as Allison watched her suddenly wild movements with curiosity.  
She paced the floor of her bedroom, her hands grabbing at her hair in a very Stiles like manner. This didn’t go unnoticed by the brunette, who was now leaning up on her elbows, watching her friend with a knowing smile on her lips.

 

Lydia halted suddenly, turning to Allison with her arms outstretched.  
“I love him’’, her voice was almost shrill as she spoke the words aloud for the first time, her eyes wide and unblinking as she stared at her friend - as if she was daring her to disagree.

“I know you do, Lyds…’’

“I love him. I love Stiles’’, Lydia brought her hands to her face as she tried to cover the ear splitting grin that erupted across her lips. Allison, however, saw this and grinned too - a chuckle escaping as her friend blushed a brilliant pink hue. 

“So, how can you say this to me, but not him?’’ 

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— 

“Okay, buddy - I think you’ve had enough’’, Derek grabbed the almost empty bottle of whiskey from Stiles’ slack hands. The boy grunted in protest, making a grab for the Jack as he sat up. Derek’s apartment swayed and titled in front of him and he groaned - hardly noticing as Isaac gently pushed him back into the sofa.  
Scott sighed in sympathy for his best friend. Derek smirked at the human’s inability to remain sober. 

Stiles had called Scott as he was throwing his jeep into reverse and peeling away from Lydia’s drive.  
His words were harsh and broken, the hand holding his cell a loft shook with hurt and frustration. He was done - he couldn’t continue walking away from the girl that kept pulling him back to confusion and hurt.

“Scott, I need a drink-’’

“Dude, are you okay? You sound like-’’

“I need a drink, okay? Are you going to be there to make sure I don’t get shitfaced and fall off a cliff or something?’’

Scott sighed heavily down the phone, the line crackling, “Stiles, what happened?’’ His voice was gentle and his words held knowledge. He knew that his friend had visited Lydia.

Stiles swallowed heavily, his chest burning as the speed of the jeep increased. He was silent for a few seconds before he grunted back at Scott, “Bro, just meet me at Derek’s okay?’’

“I’ll be there in ten’’.

Scott slumped down beside his friend, watching as Stiles eyes stared straight ahead and out the window. Neither boy said anything and the silence was only broken when Isaac sat opposite them, sighing heavily.  
There was nothing either of his three friends could say - no boyishly stupid advice or words of wisdom would help Stiles. He was drunk, he was tired and he was still confused about the strawberry blonde he’d left naked in bed.  
He closed his eyes and groaned at the image, the whiskey making his head throb and his throat burn. 

The night stretched on into the early hours of the morning and it was only when the sky outside turned red and purple that Stiles spoke.  
His eyes were as pink as the sunrise and heavy with sleep and alcohol. He cleared his dry throat and murmured to anyone who was still awake.  
“I don’t get a happy ever after, we don’t live in a fairy tale, do we?’’ His words mirrored Lydia’s and his chest felt dull and empty as Stiles spoke into the empty whiskey bottle.  
“Nope’’, he grunted, popping the ‘P’ with fake enthusiasm, “we live in a world with werewolves and demons and monsters that take everything away from us’’.

Scott sat across from his friend in the shadows, the sun still hiding from behind the indigo clouds. He watched his best friend with sad eyes and he couldn’t find his own voice as he listened to Stiles’ words. The boy moved across the room to take the bottle away from Stiles when he tried to lift it to his lips once more, ignoring the fact that it was empty and had been for a while.  
The alpha gently prised it from his grip before setting it on the table. When he turned back to face the boy, Stiles’ once unfocused gaze was set on him, his voice was low and serious when he spoke.

“Scott, all the monsters and bad guys took Lydia away from me’’.

Scott shook his head sadly, his words of comfort and protest ready to fall from his lips, but, Stiles nodded solemnly.

“I can’t have her Scott’’.

And then, Stiles passed out.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

It had been eight days since Stiles left Lydia alone and half dressed in her bed. Eight whole days since he passed out on Derek’s couch and was then taken home by Scott and Isaac. Eight fucking days, seven damned hours, twenty four shitty minutes and fifty two god forsaken seconds since Lydia had last spoken to him.

Stiles groaned, dropping his wrist and looking away from his watch. His eyes settled on the mass of strawberry blonde curls that sat two seats in front of him - just out of reach. He really couldn’t complain, he hadn’t tried to initiate conversation with the girl either. They had both avoided the other after awkward eye contact and lost glances were shared that horrible, alcohol soaked Monday. Apart from lunch and a mere six classes together, Stiles didn’t see Lydia much. She was silent at the table, picking at her lunch like a little bird before quickly making excuses to go study in the library. 

Stiles would hurt all over again when he remembered the time he followed her there and what happened after it…

The boy closed his eyes and tried to focus on the lecture that was happening in front of him, but every time he returned his gaze to the blackboard, his eyes fell sadly back onto the frame of Lydia.  
She seemed to tense up every time Stiles’ eyes found her - her shoulders would stiffen and her furious note taking would suddenly falter. There was a tug somewhere deep in the girl’s chest that told her exactly what Stiles was doing behind her; Lydia could feel his gaze on her, making her skin feel hot and a flush crawl up the back of her neck. 

When she felt brave, she would peek behind the curtain of her long hair - letting their eyes meet in longing before she would be reminded of him leaving, walking away from her… and her final words to him. She winced from the pain that night caused her before quickly looking away.  
Lydia sighed, going back to scribbling dark scrawls across her otherwise blank notebook. It had been eight whole days since she had spoken to Stiles - Lydia was counting too. 

“So why have you fallen out with your wife?’’ Isaac nudged Stiles good naturedly as he shoved a slice of pizza into his mouth.

Stiles grimaced at the wolf’s word choice and Scott shrugged apologetically when he spotted his friend’s reaction. Stiles struggled to find the words in order to reply - all whilst Isaac, Liam and Danny sat impatiently, waiting for the apparent gossip that was being withheld from them.

“Did you piss her off again?’’ Danny offered helpfully.

Scott winced behind his burger, hoping and praying that his friends would leave Stiles and the sensitive subject alone. He sat in silence, ready to end the conversation if need be. 

“No, funnily enough I didn’t this time’’, Stiles laughed humorlessly, his eyes missing the spark they once held when Lydia was brought up in conversation, “I didn’t do anything wrong - not that I know of anyway’’. 

He smiled tightly at his audience of friends - all who looked more confused than before at the vague answer Stiles had given them. Stiles rose from his seat, shrugging his bag over one shoulder before offering Scott a small nod of thanks - his friends obvious silence meant a lot to him among the otherwise goading conversation.

“Yeah - I think I’m gonna hit the library or something… ‘’ He trailed off awkwardly, leaving his lunch untouched and his friends look at him curiously, “And Isaac? She’s not my wife, man, she’s not my anything’’.

The boy left them with those last words and a tight smile as he made his way through the mazes of tables in the buzzing cafeteria. His step faltered when he realized he was heading right towards the table four familiar girls occupied. He swore under his breath, forgetting that their shared gym class must have ended early.  
Allison sat facing him and looked up with a warm and familiar smile. Stiles returned it hesitantly, extremely aware of the fact that Lydia sat close to her, her auburn head bent over a book that would never fit in her arms, never mind her bag.

Stiles was about to walk by quickly and unnoticed and he released a sigh of relief. When he was five steps away from the girls table, he heard his name being called enthusiastically. 

“Hey, Stiles!’’

Malia.

He hesitated for a second, wondering if he could get away with pretending he didn’t hear her - he could just keep walking. But Malia was loud. So instead, with another muttered curse, he spun slowly on his heel until he saw the table of expectant faces - some which were more happy to see him than others. The boy chanced a quick and awkward wave at the coyote, hoping that somehow, her supernatural senses would kick in and she would realize that this was not the time. 

Instead, she gestured him over with a wide smile. Stiles glared at Allison as he stiffly walked back over to them, mentally willing her to do something, to say anything. The brunette simply shrugged, her curious gaze darting between Lydia and himself. 

He paused at the top of the table, between Kira and Lydia herself. The atmosphere shifted, the air stilled and Stiles was almost brought to his knees at the feeling of overwhelming longing. He coughed nervously.

“Hey, guys’’, he raised his hand in another awkward wave, his eyes lingering on Lydia’s profile. She sat up straighter than before, her studious gaze trained on the table as Allison not so subtly kicked her from underneath.  
She glared at her friend before going back to the pages of her book. Allison shrugged apologetically to the boy, her sad and frustrated eyes matching Stiles’.

Oblivious to what was apparently happening around her, Malia launched into a conversation about Isaac and their last date - and had he mentioned anything about her? It took Kira poking Stiles between the ribs three times before he tore his stare away from Lydia’s constant doodling in the margin before he replied with an intellectual, ‘huh?’

Malia frowned and repeated her question with more bluntness than necessary. Kira winced at her friend’s tone, looking up at Stiles with a good natured smile.

“So, has he said anything about me to you or the others?’’ Malia asked him with raised eyebrows and an expectant smile. 

To be truthful, Stiles had heard anything that was said to him in over a week - classes, parents and friends included. In a very Stiles like manner, he stumbled and stuttered - his hand reaching for the nape of his neck as he searched for the right reply.

“Uh, I’m sure - I think, he said… Isaac totally mentioned…’’ He tripped over each word again and again, becoming so much more horribly aware of Lydia next to him as she rose from her chair to stand next to him. She was so close.  
She only reached his shoulders but suddenly he was looking down into her wide, hazel eyes. She smiled a sad smile, her eyes lowering from his own before she threw some words over her shoulder at Malia. 

“I remember him telling Stiles and the guy’s how much fun he had with you at the weekend - In fact, I’m sure he’s planning on asking you out again tonight… Isn’t he Stiles?’’ 

His name fell from her lips like a fucking nuclear bomb. The sound of it tore his breath from his lungs and made his heart leap into his throat. He was silent for what seemed like hours before he nodded, his lips parted as he gazed down at the girl. 

“Yes, uh yeah - he did say that, yeah’’, Stiles voice was low and hollow, his throat was dry and mind was filled with nothing but the way Lydia’s long curls brushed his bare arm and how her too-familiar perfume clung to the air he desperately breathed in.

He finally glanced up at Malia, who was blushing cutely and grinning at the apparently correct answer. Within seconds, she had her head bent by Kira’s, the two of them whispering excitedly at the prospect of planning another date outfit soon.  
Allison was suspiciously quiet, her forgotten apple playing at her quirked lips as she watched her best friend and the boy who was like her brother stare at each other in silence. 

The world and all it’s sounds faded out from around her like a bad romance movie, and all Lydia could see, was Stiles. Her neck already hurt from looking up at him, her usual heels swapped for flats after gym and circuit running. But she couldn’t look away.

His hair was messy as usual, the end’s curling ever so slightly and telling her he was in need of a haircut. His brown eyes were losing their guarded appearance, slowly warming back to the liquid gold that she knew so well. He was still gazing down at her, his perfectly bowed lips quirking as she tried not to blush.

Lydia’s mind was screaming at her - actually screaming as she tried in vain to make order out of all the words she was dying to say to him.  
I’m sorry.  
I was wrong.  
I miss you.  
I love you.

She parted her lips, ready to say something, to say anything - hoping that it would at least come out in the right order and sound halfway intelligible. But for the first time, in her life, Stiles beat her to it.

“Nice save - thanks… uh, thank you’’, Stiles shuffled awkwardly, his arm brushing her shoulder and sending pinpricks of sinful heat into her skin. She was starting to believe that standing this close to him after so long was causing her genuine pain.  
Her eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to rein in her thoughts and eventually, Lydia settled on a nervous and almost disappointed smile.  
It was a timid and fake and so, so hurt smile that Allison had to look away. Stiles frowned at it’s appearance on the girls lips and he ached to kiss it away. His fingers twitched as he reached out to touch her waist. 

He stopped.

“Yeah, you’re welcome - I just, yeah-’’ Lydia’s voice was strange and robotic, her cheeks warming and tears staining the corner of her eyes. She blinked rapidly, her gaze dropping. 

“Lydia…’’, Stiles’ voice was low and broken, and suddenly, close to her ear. His neck was bowed, his body inches away from her own as if he was scared to touch her. The truth was, he didn’t trust himself to stop if he did. 

The girl started at the sound of his voice, the warmth of his body and the way his name fell from his lips. Lydia jumped slightly, bringing her head up too quickly and realizing all too late that their faces were only centimeters apart.  
All conversation around them died as both sets of eyes flicked rapidly between each other’s wide gaze and then down to their parted lips. She could see the sharp lines of his cupids bow, the small mole on his cheek. Lydia was suddenly breathing too quickly, the large, crowded room was far too warm and the world in front of her spun. 

She stumbled backwards, her footing unsure as she hurried to back away from Stiles’ lips. He frowned as he watched her, genuine concern in his eyes as he reached out to steady her. His hand connected with Lydia’s waist, it fitting perfectly into the dip in her small waist as it always had done. They both stilled, realizing that they had every one of their friends attention, stares coming from both sides of the cafeteria. 

If this had been two months ago, before that fateful valentine’s night, Stiles would’ve pulled Lydia to him without a care in the world, his arm around her shoulder as he made fun of her heavy textbooks and pulled a curl playfully. Lydia would’ve rolled her eyes and laughed, nagging him to fix his shirt collar before taking him by the hand and pulling him away to class. 

Now, Lydia froze under his touch. Stiles dropped his hand as if he had been burnt and he stepped out of her way. Watching as his friend strode past him and grasped her book to her chest. Lydia ignored Allison’s urgent whispers as she collected her belongings from the table and stuffed them into her bag.  
Walking towards the double doors that led to the hallway, Lydia hesitated as she passed Stiles still form, he watched her, waited for her. 

Lydia stopped, her face partially hidden from the mass of hair that fell haphazardly into her face. One side of her full lips quirked sadly, her eyes holding his own for only seconds as she told him quietly but sincerely, “I’m sorry, Stiles’’.


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

The topic of conversation was tense and the atmosphere was worse. The pack were spread around Derek’s apartment, the location of the rogue wolves was now an important issue. 

Allison had spotted one of the males earlier that day, chatting to a girl from her Spanish class outside of the diner. She hadn’t taken her eyes off of the pair until the girl smiled and got safely into her car.  
Allison had quickly done the same before alerting Scott. He had then called Derek and made it official - the enemy had moved into town. 

 

Lydia understood the severity of the situation - she really did - and she was worried, just like the rest of her friends. But in that moment, she was having an extremely difficult time focusing. Stiles had wandered into the large room slightly later than the rest of them, Isaac in tow and looking rather tired. His hair was messier than usual and despite his eyes missing their usual warmth, they found her immediately in the mess of teenagers, pizza boxes and old town blueprints. 

She smiled at him, a small, timid tilt of her lips. Lydia held her breath for what seemed like hours before Stiles quirked his at her in return. The boy murmured his greetings to the rest of his friends but as he sunk into the armchair opposite her, his gaze grew intense, meeting her eyes before dropping momentarily to her lips.  
The air was thick and the pair had all of their friends attention. 

With a not so subtle cough and smirk, Allison gently nudged her friend who sat next to her - observing as the strawberry blonde’s cheeks quickly matched her hair. Lydia lowered her eyes, dropping her gaze from Stiles who watched her long lashes fan across her cheeks as her stare fell quickly to her lap.   
He missed her.

The overwhelming pull her felt towards the girl was soon interrupted as Scott stood before them all, silently commanding their attention from the large oak table that took up the living space. Isaac and Derek flanked him, their arms crossed and their features tense as Scott began to explain the reason for their sudden meeting.

“The pack that we spotted across the river a few weeks ago is moving in. Their beta’s have been seen around town - targeting younger kids, students mostly. We don’t know the reasoning for this yet but we want to make sure it isn’t dangerous’’, Scott stood tall, meeting each of his friends eyes as they nodded back in agreeance. 

 

Kira and Malia sat quietly on the kitchen stools, tapping furiously at a laptop - looking up ancient pack names and maps for the local forest area. 

“We think they’ve taken up residence in the old buildings that used to be connected to the Beacon Fields Farm’’, Kira explained to the rest of them, “Nobody uses the older barns anymore and they’ve got a clear viewpoint all around them - it’s just acres of flat grass - no hiding spots’’, she grimaced. 

“From what Isaac and I have seen of them, we’re guessing there may be around thirteen in the pack - including two alphas’’, Malia added, nodding at Isaac who confirmed this information. 

“Two alphas? Isn’t that even more strange than a whole pack of them?’’ Liam frowned, looking around at this friends as Stiles backed up his question with raised eyebrows and a shrug.

Derek stepped forward, “Yeah - it’s pretty strange and that’s why we can’t go diving into this with our eyes closed and our claws first’’, the older wolf shot Malia a quick glance, smirking when the coyote had the right to look embarrassed.  
“We don’t know their pack dynamics or even what they want with Beacon Hills - judging by the girls that the beta’s have been seen talking to, Scott and I think they’re recruiting, and possibly by force’’.

Lydia winced, remembering Peter’s manipulation over her, the way his eyes would glow red in the darkness of her nightmares. She only realised that she had closed her own eyes when she opened them and came back to the reality of the room - and Stiles gazing across the room at her with concern crossing his features.

“So basically, because of the dangers and all of the unknown right now, it’ll be Derek, Isaac, Kira, Liam, Malia and myself that will be checking out the farm’’, Scott clapped his hands together, eyeing his more human friends warily. 

On cue, Stiles straightened in his chair, his eyes widening before he scoffed in realisation. He shook his head at his best friend, chuckling without any humour.  
“There’s not a chance in chance in hell that you’re going there without me -’’

Lydia nodded at his words, her expression defiant as she dared Scott to argue with her. Allison was still leaning back into the sofa, expecting her nails with bored features - she had clearly already discussed this with her boyfriend - and lost. 

Derek rolled his eyes at the human and the banshee, his patience wearing thin when danger and death was up for discussion. Before he could respond to Stiles with low growls and cutting words, Scott stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on his friends shoulder.

“Dude, we’re going to try and make this as safe as possible - Lydia, Allison and you can’t heal like the rest of us can’’, he smiled sadly, “If the worst does happen - at least we’ll have supernatural stitching on our side’’.

Stiles didn’t return the smile just yet; arguments were already forming in his head. Likewise, Lydia rose to her feet, ignoring Allison’s soft warnings beside her.   
Stiles recognised the way her cheeks flushed and her eyes flashed, and the boy smirked a little despite the situation - she looked pissed.

Like any sane man would, Scott stepped away from the banshee ever so slightly, his feet stumbling awkwardly as he walked backwards into Isaac - who in turn - backed away from the advancing Lydia.

“Scott McCall, I am not human - I’m a fucking banshee and I can help!’’ Lydia poked her werewolf friend in the chest, just hard enough that he pouted slightly as he rubbed the spot and Isaac laughed from behind the safety of Derek. 

“I can be there to help, I can give warnings, I can -’’

“Lydia, no’’, Scott’s voice was soft but rang with finality when he told the girl his reasons, “I’m not taking any risks, okay? I know you’re not really human - but as far as we know, banshee’s don’t have the ability to heal like wolves do’’.

“And we’re not using this meeting as a way to experiment that’’, Isaac added with a grimace. He brushed past Lydia to grab another slice of pizza, patting the smaller girl on the head and grinning when she almost hissed at him. 

The small hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end when she felt Stiles brush up against her, his bare arm on her own as he stood; ready to argue the side of the humans with her.  
Behind the pair, Allison rolled her eyes good naturedly and stole Liam’s pizza crust off of his plate. 

“Dude, you seriously cannot expect us to sit on our asses while the rest of you go gallivanting off into a completely dangerous situation!’’ Stiles’ voice rose in volume slightly, his arms grasping at the air as his actions became jerky.  
Lydia simply raised her eyebrows in agreeance, nodding along to Stiles’ words.

Scott sighed, rubbing a hand heavily over his tired eyes as he stared back at the two most stubborn people he knew. But hey, at least they were in the same room as each other now. 

“Guys, my decision is final - I’m not putting anyone without their own built in body hospital in danger… it’s not happening’’, Scott’s eyes were wide and sincere. He waited for the next argument from either one of his friends, but surprisingly, it didn’t come.

Grudgingly, Stiles and Lydia backed down - for the time being. Their eyes met once more as they took their previous seats across from each other, and this time, there was a little more warmth in Stiles’ eyes. Lydia couldn’t hide her small but relieved smile as she noted the familiar hints of gold shining back at her.

The conversation continued as the light outside dimmed and the rest of the pizza vanished. It was only as the pack were all standing and getting ready to leave that Stiles decided to argue his point once more.

Scott grabbed his tattered school bag before he slung an affectionate arm around Allison’s shoulder and headed for the door.  
“Remember, Stiles, Lydia - I want you indoors at all times tomorrow night - no matter what happens’’.

Lydia simply gritted her teeth and stayed silent, busying herself with tying her hair in a knot on her head. Stiles on the other hand, was already geared up with a rebuttal.   
He clapped his friend heartily on the shoulder, masking his annoyance with a smug smile. The whole pack knew that he was being deadly serious when he told Scott, “Sorry bro, but you can’t make me stay away when my friends need help’’. 

———————————————–

Saturday passed with an odd and uneasy atmosphere. Their supernatural friends were somewhere in the woods, close to the old Hale grounds, scoping out their best line of attack when it came to approaching the Beacon Farm. It had been hours and it was growing dark, Scott had called in to check on them an hour ago, reminding the girls once again, to not leave the house.  
Lydia was sat in her room, only half listening to Allison tell her about an argument she’d had with her dad earlier that morning, her thoughts were filled with a boy trapped in his own home - a boy with a penchant for danger and disobedience. 

“I told him repeatedly that I was eighteen now, I could stay overnight with my boyfriend if I wanted to - the fact that he’s a werewolf shouldn’t really matter considering…’’

Allison frowned and stopped talking, watching as her friend distractedly nodded her strawberry blonde head half heatedly - Lydia was seemingly oblivious to the fact Allison had stopped her conversation.

“Lydia, are you even listening?’’

The girl was staring at her phone, the black screen doing nothing interesting as it rested in front of her on the bed. Her eyes were unfocused and almost glazed over, her hand hovering above her throat as pain slashed across her face.

“Lyd, are you okay?’’ Allison’s initial annoyance faded when she took in her friend’s appearance. Lydia was pale, really pale.

The banshee whipped her head up to look at her friend with an almost unnatural quickness, reminding Allison of the fact that her best friend wasn’t really human.  
Lydia remained in her seated position on the bed, her legs crossed underneath her, but the upper half of her body fell forward and Lydia’s hands shot out to catch herself as Allison grabbed her shoulders.   
The brunette searched her friends wide eyes frantically for any signs of pain, for any clue to as what was happening.

“Lydia talk to me, come on’’, Allison begged, “Please, Lydia…’’

It was with a deep breath and a muffled wail that Lydia wrenched herself free from Allison’s hold, her feet finding the carpet as she rushed over to her window. The world outside was dark and the streets were empty.   
Lydia clutched at the material of her dress - just by her collar - underneath her throat. The skin there burned, something inside her chest clawed to get out. She squeezed her eyes closed, not noticing Allison beside her or the hand that she placed worriedly on her arm.

Someone was hurt.

The hot sensation she felt over her skin intensified and her fear turned into a blind panic. She stumbled over her own feet, twisting and turning as she tried in vain to hold in the scream that she felt pushing its way through her body. Her mind roared, her eyes stung.

Allison was holding her wrists now, clutching them both in her hands as they fell to the floor together in what seemed like slow motion, Lydia shaking as she could only make out the faint shapes that her friend’s lips made. No sound came out of her mouth.  
Her usually fluffy carpet was now rough under her bare legs, scratching against her skin as her hands remained glued to her temples, blocking out the whispers that had flooded in.  
Hands that didn’t belong to Allison seemed to grip her tightly, brushing against her back, pulling at her hair. Lydia bit back a sob that made her lips tremble. 

Then, as suddenly as the senses started, as quick as the scream had built in her chest, it stopped. The voices faded into nothing and Allison’s frantic and worrying words came slamming back into her as she dropped into reality.   
Lydia blinked once, twice… something was still wrong.

The scream had stopped, but there was something else in her chest. Another feeling, another sensation that she had never felt before - something entirely alien and foreign. It felt so wrong and she let out a gasp so violent it was if she had just surfaced from the darkest depths of the sea. 

That usual feeling, that warmth in her body, that humming in her chest - the one that had been there for a while now - was gone. The one that made her feel safe, the sensation that only made her stronger, had disappeared.   
That tugging feeling, that pull she always felt - wasn’t there. That rope that seemed to tie her directly to a boy had been cut.

Lydia scrambled from the floor, running to her bathroom as Allison cried out her name behind her. The banshee fell to the tiled floor and pain shot through her knees at the harsh landing. She barely had her auburn head over the toilet before her stomach violently emptied. Her eyes burned and her throat stung almost as badly as it had minutes before. Her world reeled in front of her, threatening to fade to black.

Allison was frantic now, tears staining her cheeks as she knelt beside Lydia with a damp washcloth. She ran the warm rag across her friend’s face, brushing her cheeks and forehead with such gentle care and shaking hands. The whole time, they stared at each other with wide eyes; terrified and shockingly pale.

Allison had her fears confirmed when Lydia whispered through chapped, dry lips.

“It’s Stiles”.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so nervous posting this, I truly do. I would genuinely love every little bit of feedback I can get on this chapter. For maximum impact, I suggest listening to 'About Today by The National'.

Stiles was pacing his room. The floorboards were cold and hard under his feet and he eyed his shoes that lay by the door. His jacket was on it’s hook, a baseball bat leaning against the door underneath. Waiting, ready, anticipated.

The night was drawing nearer and the sky outside turned navy, the streets empty and his head full of thoughts. Dangerous thoughts - full of worry and anger, frustration and unease.   
He bit at his thumb nail, his teeth marring the skin around it. He tasted blood.  
Stiles sighed, before facing the window, straining into the darkness as if he could find Scott and his friends in the distance. They were miles away, across the woodland border and out of sight of humans. The boy braced his forehead on the cool window panes, gazing down at the empty driveway and wishing that his father was home - that someone was here to distract him.

His cell burned in his pocket and Stiles’ fingers twitched to reach for it, to send a text to Lydia, to call her, just for a second - just to hear her voice.   
Instead, he walked backwards until his knees hit the mattress, allowing himself to drop onto the soft springs. He lay there in his room, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue and silence around him. The light was fading.

When he finally did pull his phone out of his pocket, the screen illuminated the entire room. He read Scott’s last text for the seventh time.   
“We’re near the farm - everyone’s okay. Don’t worry. Stay safe’’.

Something in his chest tightened and more discomfort settled over him. Stiles was usually one to fidget, he was aware of that trait, but tonight - well tonight, he couldn’t stay in the same spot for more than a few seconds. Unease flooded his bedroom, an unsettled atmosphere hung around him, clouding his mind and pulling his lips into a grim line.   
He was back on his feet as he decided to pull on his converse, just in case, he told himself. It wasn’t long before he was perched on the edge of his desk, his fingers tapping almost painfully on the wooden surface. Something wasn’t right.   
He looked at his watch, his own fingers cold on his skin. Nine, forty eight pm.

It was fourteen minutes past ten when Stiles heard the howl. It carried on the wind and hit him square in the chest, knocking the air out his lungs. He dropped his cell, ignoring the ‘crack’ it made as it hit the floor.   
The howl was low and lasted for what seemed hours. The pain it held wrapped itself around Stiles’ chest and squeezed him, his own breath stopped. It was full of agony and it was, Stiles quickly realised, a cry for help.

It was Scott.

The soles of his shoes hardly touched the stairs as Stiles tore down them and out of the front door. The bat felt heavy in his hand, rough on his skin and a sign of the battle to come.   
The air was cold outside, his breath hung in front of him as he tried to gather his thoughts. Stiles shut his eyes and panted, trying to calm his breathing before he lost his control and his world shut down around him. He was dizzy and the pavement under his feet tilted and dipped.  
His hand found the door to the jeep and he held onto it like a lifeline, he focused on Scott, he thought of Lydia, he prayed they were both safe.

He murmured these words under his breath, chanting them like a mantra that kept  him sane, that made him limbs move and his brain work. He roared to life, like an action figure with new batteries. Stiles clambered into the front seat, throwing his bat on the chair next to him as he jammed the keys into the ignition. The jeep growled halfheartedly as it turned over and over, the engine refusing to co-operate with the cold air.

Frustration and despair stung in the boy’s eyes and he threw his fists forward, slamming into the steering wheel with more strength than he knew he possessed. He muttered curses that mixed with prayers, promises to higher entities he was never sure existed - please, just please, work.   
He turned the key again and again - a fourth time, a fifth time and then - the sixth. The engine started grudgingly and Stiles was flying out the driveway in reverse before it could cut out again. His hands were shaking as they found purchase on the steering wheel, blood settling into the lines of his battered knuckles. He could almost smell it, the taste of it from before still left a bitter tang in his mouth. Stiles’ stomach churned.   
A sense of foreboding filled the cab of the jeep, and when he passed the vandalized sign that indicated the farmland was close, something in his chest warned him to turn back. Something was pulling him away from the danger.

Worry made his chest constrict painfully, yet, he parked the jeep haphazardly by the rot covered fence before killing engine.   
It was completely silent - Stiles heard no insects, no birds, no wind and no sounds of supernatural battles.

The seat hardly made a whisper as it slid from around his body, clicking back into place. The boy opened the door carefully, grimacing as it squeaked with age. He slunk from his seat to the forest floor, the frosted ground crunching under his feet. The door swung shut and the world became still.

Cold nipped at his exposed skin, the dried blood caking his knuckles cracked as he flexed his hands, rubbing his palms together as he shivered under his jacket. Ice formed in the centre of muddy puddles. When had it become so cold?

He stepped over fallen branches, eyeing the old gate in front of him warily, it looked wet to touch, coated with moss that dripped with an unknown substance. He kicked at it with the toe of his shoe, wincing as it creaked ajar before crumbling slightly at the hinges.   
Long gone were the days that Scott and himself roamed the woods for crime scenes and possible dead bodies, it seemed like years since darkness and hidden tree stumps were their worst enemies.   
Fear was almost non-existent, it was now a myth. Stiles know only knew of survival, the correct way to hold a handgun and the powers of mountain ash and wolfs bane.

But, when the trees cleared and the scene in front of him unfolded, his blood turned to ice and dread settled upon him like the mist that swirled around his ankles.   
The air was damp and the scent of blood carried on the wind. The bumpy, mud covered path that led through the forest finally brought him to the edge of a clearing; flat planes of fields surrounded a small farm house, with large half assembled barns.   
In front of the main building, beside what looked like the skeleton of an old tractor, was his friends.

Isaac was closest to him, lingering on the outskirts with one arm around Malia’s wasit, who was clinging to his neck - blood pouring from her arm as her eyes glowed blue.  
Stiles took an involuntary step forward as the pair stumbled slightly, their injuries weakening them as they watched the rest of the pack from afar - as helplessly as Stiles felt.  
The boys eyes were drawn to Kira, glowing in the darkness as she fought back to back with a snarling Liam. The girl’s katana flashed dangerously, the moonlight catching its sharp edge as Kira wielded it with power and confidence.   
Two large males were descending upon her, their claws longer than Stiles had seen and their eyes glowing yellow.

He took another step.

Before Kira was overpowered, Liam delivered his final blow to his own opponent, a man with scars running down the length of his bare chest and long, tangled hair that was the colour of snow.   
The younger wolf spun around with practiced speed, tackling one beta to the ground with ease. Kira hurled her blade into the side of the other, watching with pain as he fell to his knees with a roar. Stiles was moving closer and he could see the dark blood that escaped the wolf’s wound before it slowly stitched itself together. The enemy was down, but only for a moment.

“ _Derek_!’’

Isaac had shouted out, his back still to Stiles, as he watched a girl - who looked not much older than them - pounce at Derek from the shadows. Her hair was short and chopped, dirt marring her once pretty features as she snarled and flashed her teeth - aiming for Derek’s neck.  
The older wolf turned in time, disposing of one limp body before he caught the girl by her shoulders, throwing her into the ground and sending a cloud of dust into the air. When it finally settled, the girl hadn’t moved.

In the midst of it all, was Scott. Stiles had his eyes trained on his best friend, unable to count the lifeless bundles of limbs that surrounded him. His eyes were flashing dangerously, his lips curled back to show snarling teeth - daring the next idiots to cross him. Three wolves advanced on him, two of  them being the alpha’s that they had heard about.  
Scott took out the young omega easily, only one powerful twist of his hand was needed. However, when he stood back to his full height, the two alphas towered over him, their broad chests decorated with scars that resembled a map of the world. Blood was smeared across their ripped and tattered clothing - and Stiles would have bet that the majority of it wasn’t their own.

As Stiles watched in horror, the two closed in on Scott, their growls heard over the growing winds. It was then, when Stiles flexed his hand and reached out to thin air, that he realised he had left his bat in the car.  
His heart faltered.

“Stiles, god fucking  _dammit_ , what the fuck are you doing here?!’’

Isaac was rushing at him, carrying a whimpering Malia in his arms. His eyes were losing their yellow hue and blood dripped from his eyelashes - a claw sized dent in his forehead was beginning to close on itself.

“You need help!’’ Was Stiles’ obvious reply.

Isaac simply shook his head at the human, realising that it was impossible to argue with him, never mind the bad timing.

“Here’’, Stiles jammed his hand into his pocket, bringing out his car keys, “the jeep’s parked not even a mile away, quick, take her there’’.

Isaac nodded gratefully, gathering Malia closer to his chest as she let out a weak moan, her shirt now saturated with blood.  
Before Stiles could ask why the coyote wasn’t healing as quickly as the rest of them, Isaac took off in a jog, his left leg limping as he disappeared into the woods that Stiles had came from.   
It was truly dark now, the navy clouds had rolled in with the strong winds, covering what little light they had from the moon.  
A mixture of gravel and dirt crunched under Stiles hesitant footsteps - his wildly beating heart betraying the calm expression that he wore on his face.   
He could hardly see a foot in front of him. Shapes moved in the darkness, too quick to make out. Low growls and hisses of pain filled the cold air. Stiles’ stomach churned dangerously as he realised pools of blood lay at his feet.   
Blood that could have been Malia’s -

A roar filled the air and for a second, everyone stopped, everything stopped. The world stopped spinning on it’s axle and Stiles was sure the planets that surrounded it dropped into darkness. The wind stilled and so did Stiles’ heart.

Scott was lying at the feet of the remaining alpha, his eyes flickering from crimson to a dull, weak brown. His opponent snapped at the air with his teeth, the long fangs dirty with blood. He lay a shoe covered foot onto Scott’s shoulder, kicking him onto his back and making him groan in pain. The wolf smirked.

Stiles was moving again, his brain not registering the fact that his feet were pacing across the field, his breath shortening as his stride increased.   
 _No, no, no, no, no_.

The alpha raised a large hand that was close to the size of a club, his claws glinting in what little light the moon gave them. He aimed for Scott’s throat and Scott closed his eyes, spluttering slightly as blood rose from his throat and stained his lips.

“ _STILES, NO!_ ’’

Derek yelled furiously as he ripped himself away from the hold that two betas had him in. He was sprinting towards Stiles as the boy tore past him, flying for his friend.   
If the pack had learned anything when doing combat training and playing lacrosse, it was that Stiles was _fast_. His tall, lean body moved with a grace he usually never had, weaving in and out of enemies and leaping over casualties that littered the ground.   
Before he reached Scott, something tackled him from his side, leaping out of the darkness like death itself.

All the oxygen that Stiles held in his body was taken from him with such force that tears sprang to his eyes. The air rushed from his lips and left him gasping. His chest was painfully tight and he could see the stars above him as he lay on the ground. They blurred into strange shapes, fading into the inky black sky before shining back at him.  
When the sharp points of five fingers pierced his rib cage, he heard Kira scream out in horror. Derek was roaring in anger, finishing off each wolf with ease as he slammed them into the ground, one by one. Before darkness took over him, he saw Scott crawl to his side.   
He heard heavy footsteps and Isaac’s muttered “ _shit, no_ ”.  
Kira was shouting instructions to Derek as she cradled Stiles’ head on her lap, to grab something to stem the blood, anything to get rid of all the blood.  _There was so much blood._

Then he felt something more painful than the claws of a werewolf. He felt something inside his chest  _snap_ \- higher than his fresh wound, right beside his heart. Something tugged at his body, leaving him feeling empty and cold, and so, so alone.  
As he closed his eyes, he heard Lydia scream.


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

Allison was sure that Lydia was bordering on a catatonic state. The banshee hadn’t moved from the cold bathroom floor, the hard tiles leaving her bare legs pale and tinged with blue. Allison was crying, tears running down her cheeks as she sniffed and let out gasping breaths, trying in vain to talk to her best friend. She was confused and terrified, she didn’t know what was going on. She didn’t know what was happening.

“Lydia’’, Allison’s voice trembled, “Lyd, please, come on - you need to get up, we need to go’’. 

Her breath came out harshly but her hands were gentle as took hold of Lydia’s limp wrists, tugging at her, urging her to stand.  
Lydia stayed silent, her eyes unfocused as she stared at the floor. Her curls seemed limp, colour drained from her face. 

“Lydia, you have to move for me, you’re scaring me Lydia’’, Allison was sobbing now, strands of her hair sticking to her damp cheeks, “Please Lydia, please’’. 

The strawberry blonde remained still, her hand falling to her lap like a dead weight as Allison finally released her and fumbled in her pocket, looking for her cell.  
It rang once, twice, three times, “Come on Scott, please, please pick up’’, seven times, eight times, nine times…

After then minutes had passed, she had called every one of her friends a handful of times. Her phone beeped angrily at her, announcing that it’s battery was dying.  
Allison slumped down the wall, landing beside Lydia on the tiles. She took her friends hands in her own, trying so hard to keep her tears at bay. She sniffed heavily, taking a deep breath that was supposed to calm her down. It didn’t work.

“Lydia, we have to go now, okay? Somethings happened, hasn’t it?’’ Still no response.

Allison bit down on her lip to keep herself from screaming out in frustration. Lydia was scaring her, she hadn’t moved an inch since she had last uttered Stiles’ name. 

“Lydia, Lyd - we need to get in the car, okay? You’re going to stand up for me, right? We need to go get Stiles’’.

At the sound of the boy’s name, Lydia lifted her head, tears in her eyes and her lips parted in silent horror. Allison let out a gasp of relief as her friends gaze met her own and Lydia squeezed her hand tightly. 

“Stiles’’, Lydia’s voice was a choked sob, the colour rushing back to her face as tears fell from glassy eyes.

Allison nodded urgently, scrambling to her feet before pulling Lydia unsteadily to her own, “We need to go, okay?’’ The brunette led her friend out of the bathroom and through the empty house, their rushed footsteps echoing off of the walls.  
When they got to Allison’s car, Lydia’s mind was reeling and Allison was frantic. They didn’t know where to go, or what was happening - they didn’t know what to do except drive and find their friends.

The orange street lights flashed in their eyes, illuminating the inside of the car over and over again. Frost was etched on the corners of the windows and Allison eyed it warily. The roads were slick with fallen rain and Lydia was beside her, her head in her hands.

“I can’t feel him’’, she murmured into her palms. She was silent as Allison glanced quickly from the road to her friend.

“You can’t feel who, Lydia?’’ The girl whispered, her lips set into a worried line as she tried to make sense of her friends words.

“Him, Stiles. I can’t feel him, he’s not there’’, Lydia’s voice was growing in volume and more frantic as she spoke every word.

Allison gaped at the banshee, not understanding what she was implying. But her words struck fear in her chest and she took a deep breath before putting her foot down. The car sped up and so did the tension that flooded through the two girls.

As they neared the centre of town, traffic grew slightly busier and students they knew from school called out to them as they sat impatiently at the traffic lights. Allison managed to smile tightly and wave in return, but Lydia’s gaze was set dead on that crimson light, waiting for it to change. Her lip was quivering as she tried to hold it together. She wiped clumsily at her now bare eyes, hiding the evidence of her tears.   
Allison reached over the gearbox, finding Lydia’s hand in the darkness and squeezing gently. She wasn’t sure if she was reassuring her friend, or herself. Nevertheless, the two girls clung to each other desperately, sharing the night’s silence as they pulled away from the green light with more speed than they should have.   
When Allison’s cell rang and lit up with Scott’s name, the girl sobbed in relief and her foot on the accelerator faltered as she passed the phone to Lydia with shaking hands.

“Scott?!’’

Lydia yelped down the phone, punching the ‘loudspeaker’ button with her thumb as she shared uneasy glances with Allison. The reception was weak and the boys words were crackly and hard to understand.

“Lyd- is All-son with you?’’

“Yes! Yeah, we’re in the car, we’re coming - what’s going on, is everyone okay? Is Stiles -’’

“Come - Stiles house, we’re all - he-. Y’need to -urry’’.

Allison let a soft cry as she listened to her boyfriend’s words, his voice was crackling and he sounded rushed, out of breath. 

“Scott, what happened?!’’ Allison was desperate to hear that everyone was okay, it was fine, that there was no reason to panic. She bit her lip, tasting blood, and prayed for Scott to tell her the words she and Lydia needed to hear.

“Ju- hurry. Lydia?’’ Scott sounded uncertain, off balance and as if he wasn’t telling them something. Tears ran from Lydia’s eyes again and she felt sick to her stomach. 

“Yeah, Scott?’’ 

“Did you scream?’’

The girls whipped round to face each other with aghast expressions on their faces. Was someone close to dying? Lydia felt her breath stop and she almost choked on the air that painfully breathed back in. Her world felt like it was underwater, the lights swam in front of her eyes and everything sounded distorted, far away - dreamlike. 

“No, no Scott - no, why? Is everyone okay? Is Stiles - Scott, where’s Stiles?’’

“He’s here - ‘’

Those were the last words they understood before the line broke up and the alpha’s words became unintelligible. The cell beeped at them for a few seconds, the red light in the corner flashing angrily. Then, the device faded to black.   
Allison swung the wheel furiously and Lydia held on to the door handle as the car veered off of the main road and towards the Stilinski residence. 

Lydia was in a blind panic as she leant her head against the cold glass of the window. Why couldn’t she feel Stiles, why had Scott asked her if she had screamed? She hadn’t - but she felt like she was going to.   
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to make a noise as the tears came freely, rolling down her flushed cheeks like mini tidal waves.   
Was she supposed to have screamed for Stiles - was Stiles hurt? Lydia wracked her brain, trying to think of the last words she spoke to him. Utter dread and desperation struck her as she couldn’t remember. They had been silent towards each other for weeks, their movements around each other awkward and stilted. What if the last time they kissed was before Stiles walked away from her, out of her room as he told her he loved her - and she didn’t say it back. 

Lydia was gasping for breaths between sobs as she told Allison to please, please drive quicker. 

The world moved in slow motion and without colour, like an bad, old movie. The front door of Stiles’ house flew open and hit the wall behind with a thud that Lydia didn’t hear. Allison was close behind her, calling out to her but all the banshee could hear was a loud, constant ringing in her ears.   
The hallway tilted as she stumbled through it, holding out grasping hands to grab walls that weren’t really there. When she entered the living room and slammed into Isaac, the room stopped spinning and she could hear again.

She emerged from her underwater world with a shuddering breath and Isaac holding her by the shoulders. He stood tall before her, his hands gentle and his words hushed. The rest of the pack were littered around the room behind, but she couldn’t see him, she couldn’t see Stiles. Where was Stiles?  
The girl realised that she must have said this aloud because Isaac answered her with soft but urgent words that seemed practiced and rehearsed.

“He’s okay, Lydia, I promise, Scott, Derek and I took away all the pain. All of it, I swear - it looks worse than it is -’’

She heard both Isaac and Allison call out to her as she tore away from her friends embrace, twisting her much smaller body around him as she stood in the middle of the room. In the middle of a hospital ward.  
Scott was by the table, covered in dried blood and an equally crimson soaked towel in his hand. His eyes were tired and his face was drawn, but when Allison fell into his arms and peppered kisses across his cheeks and neck, he smiled and sighed in relief, his arms twisting around her frame. He met Lydia’s eyes over her shoulder, a look of regret and sadness washing over his strong features.

What was happening?

Derek was kneeling on the floor in front of groggy looking Malia, tweezers in his hand as he gently pulled out needle length teeth from the coyotes arm. She hissed and groaned, but stayed still as the older wolf hushed her soothingly.  
Kira was leaning over the couch, tending to the person lying across it. Lydia held her breath, taking a step closer.   
Bloody towels and bowls filled with ruby stained water sat at her feet, along with a familiar checked shirt. The plaid material was ripped, slashed - buttons hanging off by threads. She held back the gasp she wanted to release. She had worn that very shirt before, after waking up in Stiles’ bed, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his warm body. 

Lydia’s hand flew to her mouth, trembling there as took in the sight before her.  
Kira had moved, meeting her eyes with her own watery pair. She walked away with her head bent, taking the stained towels into the kitchen. The room was quiet.

Stiles lay on the couch, his chest bare and still damp from Kira’s administrations. Five red and angry looking scars ran across one side of his ribs and twisted around his side. The skin was swollen and raised, the welts resembling whip lashes. But Lydia knew what they were, she had a matching set of her own.  
Her lip quivered as Stiles sat up, his face twisting in pain. His hair was a mess and a nasty, purple bruise graced the side of his forehead, covering the constellation of freckles and almost meeting his doe shaped eyes.   
Eyes that were gazing up at her with such expectations.

The boy moved again and the entire room moved with him, rushing to his aid as he held out his hand and shook his head furiously. His voice was hoarse but determined as he told all of his friends that he was fine, he could manage.

He stood before Lydia and she was transfixed in horror as she watched the scars bend and twist with his lithe body movements. Little scratches marred his face and arms and she wanted to kiss everyone of them.  
She flew at the boy, crashing into his chest before she raised her tiny fits and pushed at his shoulders, her face twisted in hurt as she sobbed. Her attempts at pushing him away from her were weak, she had no intention of hurting him and she swore at the thought of him being mere inches away from her.  
But she was a hurricane of emotions, half traumatised girl and half banshee. Her little hands beat his shoulders half heartedly and Stiles bit his lip to stop his own tears from falling. His little fucking firecracker, a girl full of everything he adored in the world.

“Why can’t you do as you’re fucking told Stiles Stilinski?’’

Her words were supposed to be full of anger and rage but they were softened as she wept. Stiles merely shrugged, nervously lifting one side of his lips into a smile as Lydia finally gave in and threw herself into his arms. He caught her, just like he always did, his arms engulfing her.  
Her tears fell onto his bare chest, her arms around his neck and her lips pressed to a bruise on his shoulder. The boy held her so tightly against him that she was lifted off of her feet, the toes of her shoes barely sweeping the floor. He tangled one hand into her mane of fiery hair, his fingers delving into the soft curls. Stiles pulled her up higher against him, just so he could burrow his face into the crook of her neck.

“You’re an idiot, Stiles’’, Lydia’s voice was hoarse and cracked after crying for so long and it tore Stiles’ heart in two. But she whispered the words into his skin, leaving her lips pressed there in a kiss that their friends chose not to see.  
Stiles gave a watery chuckle in response, deciding not to argue with her, he was happy to hold her, happy that Lydia to be back in his arms - wounds and all. 

“M’your idiot’’, he mumbled into her hair, his thumb stroking the fabric that covered the small of her back. 

Her chuckle was nearly a cough as she laughed through her tears, her nose pressed into his skin; skin so familiar to her that she could map out his moles and scars with her eyes closed.  
They heard, rather than seen, their friends shuffle quietly out of the room, closing the door to the living room softly behind them before Malia accidentally slammed the front door shut.  
She could be heard outside, whispering her apologies to the choruses of ‘jesus christ’ and ‘really, Malia?’.

The interruption made Lydia lift her head from Stiles’ chest, but that was as far away as she would move. His fingers were still stroking her back, grazing the nape of her neck. She craned her head, looking into his eyes with concern shining in her own. She shook her head sadly, her bottom lip falling into a full pout that Stiles found unbearably cute.

“I’m okay, Lydia, I promise’’, Stiles answered her silent question with a voice full of sincerity. He swept a stray curl away from her face, his thumb tracing the arch of her eyebrow before setting to rub her cheek. She leaned into his touch. 

She couldn’t argue with him, Lydia couldn’t even summon the strength to yell at him a little more. He looked like he’d had enough for one night, besides, Lydia knew in her heart and head that she would have done the exactly the same as Stiles had.  
The girl smiled tiredly, the relief that had crashed over her at seeing Stiles alive and standing at taken it’s toll on her body.   
“Let’s get you cleaned up’’, She placed a kiss to his chest and Stiles closed his eyes at the sensation before taking her offered hand and allowing himself to be led out of the room and up the stairs.  
The bathroom light clicked on with a harsh intensity and both teenagers squinted at the brightness. Lydia was quick to the sink full of warm water and she fetched the first aid kit from under the cabinet. Stiles merely raised his eyebrows at her efficiency and knowledge of his home.

“Are we playing nurse and patient?’’ Stiles cracked a joke in hopes to lighten the situation, he couldn’t remember the last time he was alone with Lydia and he was nervous. She made him weak, unsure. He smirked at her with his usual playfulness in his golden eyes.  
His voice, although nothing more than a murmur, seemed so loud in the otherwise quiet house. Lydia dipped the washcloth she had found into the basin, allowing the sound of splashing water to fill the room. Finally, she looked up at him, disinfectant in hand. 

“You could say that, just make sure it’s not a regular occurrence’’, her eyebrows arched as if she dared him to defy her, but the words were softened with a small smile that played on her lips. It was timid and unsure and it relaxed Stiles - she seemed as nervous as he felt. 

He let out a hiss when the spray hit his chest, bubbling into the open skin on his chest and arms. Small scratches covered him, some criss-crossing over each other. Stiles wasn’t sure where they had came from, but as Lydia started picking pieces of gravel and dirt out of them, he began to get an idea.

“I’m sorry’’, Lydia whispered, looking up at him as she paused her actions, the warm cloth resting on his chest. Her eyes were wide and so green and so full of goddamn emotion that Stiles almost wept at the sight. 

“No, no, it’s okay - just stings a little’’, he gave her a reassuring smile, “keeping going’’. 

Lydia returned his smile with a tilt of her lips, her eyes dropping to his bare chest as her cheeks flushed. Her hand was unsteady as it swept across his skin with gentle strokes. The warm water washed away the solution she had doused his wound with and the sensations became welcoming - his body warmed and he leant back, bracing himself against the counter as she worked over him. 

When the cloth finally ran clear of blood, Lydia patted him dry and placed gentle fingers on the bruise that dusted his temple. She frowned, standing on her toes to press her lips there almost fervently. When she was satisfied her kissed had somewhat healed it, she brought her attention to the claw marks that hurt to look at.

Lydia’s fingers traced around the jagged edges that marred the otherwise soft skin of Stiles ribs. The boy held so still, that Lydia was sure he had stopped breathing. There was no washcloth between her hands and his skin now, nothing to dilute or distract from her touch.   
Her gentle ministrations continued round his side, following the red ribbons that already seemed to be healing. As if reading her thoughts, Stiles coughed, clearing his throat.

“Uh, the guys did a good job. They cleaned me up, took away all the pain and, you know, stuff’’.

Lydia smiled to herself at Stiles’ inapt description of being healed by three werewolves. His words were vague and distracted, his eyes following the movements her hand made. She rested her palm on his stomach, his abdominal muscles tightening under her touch. The girl swallowed heavily, staring at her hand on his skin. 

“I’m really glad you’re here’’, Stiles murmured, his lips soft and pouty and he gazed down at Lydia with hooded eyes.

“Me, too”, Lydia pursed her lips and willed herself not to cry again.

That was it, that was all that was needed. There was no big reunion or speeches and apologies, they knew exactly what each other meant with those simple words. Both knew how much the last month had shattered them, how it had tested their friendship and tried to rip them apart, It almost had. 

Stiles brought one hand up to wipe away a lone tear that Lydia hadn’t even felt. His thumb brushed her lip and settled on the curve of her jaw, rubbing soothing circles there. Her hand was burning his stomach, he was so aware of her touching him, almost pressed against him. So, when Lydia’s hand started to move, Stiles sucked in a harsh breath, his eyes trained intently on her own. 

Lydia teased her small hand across his stomach, feeling the hard muscles underneath. Freckled skin, white scars and soft hairs that started in a thin trail and led to the button of his jeans - her fingers followed it like a treasure map.   
Stiles felt his lips part and his eyes darkened to the molten chocolate that Lydia had became so accustomed to. They were silent, slowly leaning into each other without realising it. Their hips met, trapping Lydia’s hand between their bodies, her fingers hooked into the top of his jeans. She revelled in the feel of the boy’s warm skin, the feel of his naked chest against her.   
The arm that Stiles used to lean against the worktop suddenly snuck it’s way to her waist, his trembling hand finding the familiar dip in her body. 

Their noses grazed and bumped into each others, their eyes flickering closed before they realised they needed to see each other, they wanted to look.   
Lydia licked her lips in anticipation and Stiles almost came undone. With her face void of make up, he could see the freckles that dusted the bridge of her nose, her long eyelashes that looked almost bronze in the bright light. 

He was hesitant, she was shy - both remembering how long it had been since their lips had last met. It felt new again, unfamiliar.  
Stiles was scared to make any sudden movements, he didn’t dare breath in fear of ruining the moment. He held her like she was made of glass and Lydia could sense the reverence in his touch. She almost laughed at the notion, considering he was the one who had almost been torn in half by a werewolf.  
But god, the way he looked at her. Stiles’ eyes were shining down at her like pools of liquid gold, framed by those beautiful dark lashes that Lydia was jealous of. He held so much emotion in those eyes, she could read him like a book.   
And she knew what she saw there, it was the same way he always looked at her. 

When Stiles tilted his head down towards her own, it was painfully slow and precise in its movements. But Lydia seen it happening and her breath was stolen from her. Her stomach fluttered like a fourteen year olds, butterflies and hummingbirds and entirely new species erupting there - she almost giggled hysterically at how nervous she was, how happy she was.

Then she forgot all the words in the world.

Stiles took her top lip between his own, slowly, carefully, hesitantly, nervously - and before Lydia could register her lips on hers- he pulled back.  
He only moved away an inch but Lydia almost sobbed at the loss of him. He searched her eyes for a look of regret or something that would tell him she didn’t want this. But he only saw hunger there, desperation and little golden flecks among green that reminded him of glitter.

When his lips met hers for the second time, he took her bottom lip between his. It was an experimental touch that lasted for a few seconds. When Stiles pulled away again, it wasn’t for more than a heartbeat. His hand came up to join the other, cradling her face in his palms as he crushed his lips to hers with more enthusiasm than before.  
Stiles regained his confidence as Lydia responded and opened up underneath him. He swallowed her moans and stumbled into her as she reached up to find her favourite spot around his shoulders, one hand in his hair as she tugged him down to her.   
He groaned and did as she requested, stooping down lower so she could nip and suck at his lip. The girl moved impatiently against him and his body and wounds screamed at him to slow down, to be careful.   
But Lydia’s kisses were louder.

Stiles ached to lift her into his arms, to feel her fully against him - to perch her on the edge of the sink and feel her legs wrapped around his waist.  
But no, not there, not like that.

“Bed’’, Stiles’ voice was a gasp, like a man erupting from the depths of an ocean, his lips were glossy and swollen - and still attached to Lydia’s neck.

The girl arched into him, dipping her head back to allow him the access he wanted. Peppering kisses across her skin, he revelled in her moans and whimpers, kissing up to her jaw and drawing her earlobe between his lips. He nipped at her.

“Bed’’, he repeated, panting hot air into her lips. Their noses grazed and Lydia placed quick, feverish kisses on his parted mouth as she nodded.

“Bed’’, she agreed.


	25. The Final Chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I couldn't not write something here - even though I know people will skip over this haha. I’m genuinely nervous about posting this, finalizing stories and concluding plots have always been my weakness, I’m terrified of ruining this for everyone. This fic has seriously been my baby for the past few months and I’m so proud of myself for finishing it.   
> 56,114 words, twenty five chapters, so many late nights and too many amazing people to count. Thank you everyone who followed this story, liked it, reblogged it and for those who messaged me - either once, twice or after every update, THANK YOU.  
> You all kept me going. I hope you enjoy the last chapter of Special Friends.

The door to Stiles’ bedroom opened with a bang, bouncing off of the wall behind it. He clung to the girl who was nibbling on this bottom lip, her hands fisted in his hair as they stumbled into the darkness together.  
It was late now, Stiles knew that much, maybe somewhere near two am? He wasn’t sure and he certainly didn’t care. Outside was still black, the moon shining through the window and the stars visible through parted silver clouds. The night had cleared.

Their legs were almost intertwined, despite their still vertical position. Lydia was on her toes, her arms looped around Stiles neck as she fought the urge to climb him. She was feverish, too warm yet covered in goosebumps. She felt delirious.  
The boy’s strong arms were wound around her waist, his hands splayed across her back, almost covering the width of her frame. Her curls brushed his fingertips and when he took a breath, he tasted her. He was desperate, he couldn’t get enough of her lips, her taste, the touch of her skin, the feel of her against him. It had been weeks and he was starved of her - his stomach clenched at the thought of her underneath him again. He was nervous, his hands were shaking and his lips were ghosting across her own, asking her the silent question of, where was this going? What were they doing?

But he was silent, and instead, they stumbled carelessly together, tripping over lone shoes and open textbooks - and a shattered cell phone that lay on his rug.   
Lydia whimpered into his parted mouth, the feel of his tongue tracing her lips made her eyes squeeze tighter, her hands pull on his messy hair that little bit harder. The boy groaned, his body tall and hard against her.   
Stiles’ knees hit the back of his mattress, his frame falling backwards as he sent the two of them into the bundle of pillows and unmade covers below. The overwhelming sense of nostalgia and familiarity hit Lydia harder than anything she had ever felt.  
Her breath stuttered as the scent of everything Stiles surrounded her, enveloped her. His lips moved over her own, so softly and gentle, coaxing her to allow him access. Everything - his hands, his lips, his movements - was so fucking tender that it made tears pool behind her closed eyelids.

Stiles groaned as the fell back together, Lydia landing on top of him, her small frame tucked into his body. They kissed slowly and feverishly, their lips slanting together and their tongues meeting for tiny tastes and teasing strokes. Stiles felt drunk.   
The fabric of her dress moved against his bare chest, the material rubbing against his cuts. But he was oblivious to it, the stinging sensation only adding to the feel of her on top of him, in his bed again, after so fucking long. 

She crawled up his body, twisting out of his arms and wriggling against him, making him groan aloud. The sound did things to Lydia that she didn’t think she would ever admit. She brought her longs leg up, straddling Stiles’ body. Parting their lips with deep regret, she sighed and used his chest to slowly push herself up. She hovered above him, her bare thighs scorching into his sides. Her long strawberry blonde hair made a curtain around them, hanging down and pooling like liquid fire across his pillows. He started up at her with such awe it made her chest hurt. 

Stiles brought one hand up to cradle her cheek, stroking the soft skin and dusting of freckles. He dragged it unsteadily down to her lips, watching with dark, hooded eyes as they parted beneath him, her hot breath falling onto his skin. Lydia placed a kiss there, on the rough pad of his thumb and then, meeting his eyes with confidence, she bit down playfully.

They came crashing together like the always did, with such intensity and ferociousness that new galaxies were born above them and stars fell out of the sky. Stiles fell into her, his hands meeting the mattress just in time to catch himself, his body weight resting on his forearms. Their teeth clashed and their moans were breathed in as the moved against each other.   
Both of them were frantic, Stiles’ hands moved to skim across Lydia’s narrow waist, reaching the hem of her dress before holding onto it for dear life.   
Lydia kissed him deeper, her hands roaming across his shoulders, running down his arms and gripping onto him tightly, fearing that she may float off into nothingness.

His own hands were trembling when they dipped under the floaty material, his rough palms skating over her soft thighs, moving up to grip her hips. He felt lace under his touch, a feeling he would never get out his head. When Lydia moved encouragingly against him, he groaned, low and deep so that the girl felt it through his chest.   
She was teasing, taunting, urging him on as she ground down onto his hips, only lace and denim between them. Stiles’ breathing became ragged, his hands gripping tightly onto her hips. 

Sitting up suddenly, he surprised them both. He brought the girl up with him, sitting her in his lap with wide eyes and swollen lips. He was close to death, he was sure of it. His ribs raged at him in anger, telling him to slow down. He ignored it, instead, gripping the hem of Lydia’s pretty dress and dragging it up her legs, across her thighs.  
Stiles smiled as he watched her eyes flutter shut and her breathing quicken. She was flushed, her chests heaving underneath the floral material.   
Stiles continued his movements, slowly and carefully, ready to stop if she said the words. She didn’t. 

His hands found the soft skin of her hips, her tummy, her sensitive sides. The dress followed his movements, revealing more and more porcelain skin. He kept his eyes on her, pools of dark molten gold that pierced into her. Lydia met his burning gaze, their lips parted and just touching. Their noses brushed, their foreheads touched. She shared the same air as Stiles, panting heavily and desperately as his fingers grazed the underside of her bra, his touch dragging across the lace band.   
With one swift movement, he leant back slightly, bringing her dress over and above her head. She didn’t see it as it landed in a dark corner of his room. A moan escaped the girls lips as she reached for him, needing to feel his bare skin against her own like it was the thing keeping her alive - and in that moment, she was sure it was.

Lydia jumped slightly as his hands grazed her sides, his touch running slowly down her ribs. She was hardly breathing as she revelled at the feel of him. He stopped at the band of her underwear, the pretty green lace practically glowed in the moonlight.   
With a quickness Lydia hadn’t anticipated, Stiles flipped them, moving her underneath him as her back found the mattress and his warm frame covered her, shielding her from the cool night air. When his mouth found her own again, it was with a newly found urgency. He groaned as Lydia responded with the same enthusiasm, her hands tracing the lines of muscles along his back and the contours of his shoulder blades.   
Stiles took her bottom lip between his own, sucking gently before nipping at her. Lydia’s hips arched off of the bed at the feeling, sighing as Stiles’ hand ran over her stomach, dipping into her waist before curling itself around the top of her knee. He lifted her leg up and over his hip, holding her there as he moved closer to her, pushing into her body and smiling between kisses when she moaned louder than before. 

“Stiles’’, Lydia said his name in a gasp, her voice low and sudden in the silent room, “Stiles please’’.

She pulled and tugged clumsily at his jeans, fumbling for his button that was crushed between their bodies. Understanding her, Stiles leaned back onto his knees, closing his eyes as for a second to steady himself. He looked at her underneath him, her flaming hair spread out over his pillows in messy waves. Her eyes were bright and gazing at him in a way that made him feel weak. In nothing but lace underwear that matched the colour of her irises, she knocked his mind sideways.  
He could think of nothing but her. 

Lydia’s own shaking hands joined his and they worked together to clumsily undo his jeans. The sound of his zipper was like a warning shot going off in the quiet darkness. Stiles paused, remembering the last time they found themselves in this situation.   
Lydia on her bed, naked except for a white sheet wrapped around her body.   
Her tears and apologies, words that she didn’t say.  
Him, walking away, sitting in the jeep, cracking his knuckles off of the steering wheel. 

His body stilled and something must have shown in his face because Lydia’s lips dipped, her eyebrows drawing together in sad understanding.   
She crawled to her knees, her small body sinking into the mattress as she knelt beside Stiles, her hands placed gently on his chest. When he didn’t look at her right away, Lydia cupped her hand to his cheek, the rough stubble there grazing her palm. 

There was no speech prepared or dramatic preamble. The stars didn’t explode and the earth still turned, no one dropped to one knee and Lydia’s voice was soft and trembling, her usual bravado lost around the one person who made her weak.  
It was just the two of them, in the darkness of Stiles’ messy bedroom, both of them half naked and with messy hair and swollen lips. Just Stiles and Lydia, scars and wounds bared.

“I love you’’, Lydia told him. 

Stiles let himself fall forward, his forehead leaning against the girls as he closed his eyes, Lydia’s words resonating through him, touching every inch of him, inside and out. 

“Tell me again”, he whispered to her, his voice low and throaty; his words thick with emotion. His hand brushed a long curl away from her cheek, enjoying the softness of it between his fingers as his palm found purchase on her cheek. He was in awe of how small she was underneath him, how his hand cradled her face. 

Lydia let out a soft smile, something in her chest bursting to get out. Happiness and relief flooded her and she had no hesitation as she placed a trembling kiss high on his cheekbone, his long lashes tickling her nose.

“I love you’’.

Stiles smiled against her mouth, their lips touching but not kissing as his hands found purchase in her long auburn hair. He pulled her to him gently, running the tip of his nose along her own, finding the delicate curve of her jawline before leaving it covered in kisses. He traced the arch of her eyebrows, the fullness of her lips.   
The whole time he was whispering to her, enjoying her sighs and gasps as he pressed her chest into his own, the lace on her bra becoming an agonising burn on his skin. 

“You love me?’’ His voice was light and almost playful, but his words and question were heavy with everything they had been through, all the tears that were cried. Stiles burrowed into Lydia’s neck, loving the way she moved for him, allowing him access to nibble and nip at her skin.

He already knew the answer of course, he had known the answer months ago, he just hadn’t realised it then. But now, with the girl of his dreams half naked in front of him, telling him that she loved him - well, he was going to enjoy that for as long as he could.

Lydia was smiling openly now, her eyes closed as Stiles placed feather light pecks along her neck before switching to open mouthed kisses along her collar bones. She shivered.

“I do, I love you, Stiles’’.

His eyes were brighter than Lydia had ever seen before, it was like the sun had came out. At her words, he pulled away from her skin, raising his messy haired head to look down at her, their gazes burning everything that had just been said.

“I love you too”.

Their lips met with no rush and they fell back onto the bed, breathless and wrapped around each other. Lydia clung to Stiles with no intention of letting him go and she marvelled at the way her body shook at his touch, how his breath quickened when she pressed herself against him.   
When he removed all traces of emerald lace from her body, Lydia told him again, that she loved him - so much. Her eyes were closed when she gripped the sheets between her tiny fists and the boy trailed hot, open mouthed kisses up her legs and over her hipbones. He pressed his lips below her navel, swearing under his breath and praying he would stop trembling soon.

When he realised that Lydia was also holding onto him with nervous fingers, he breathed out deeply in relief.   
As Lydia pushed him into the bed and crawled down his body, he groaned into the dark room, his hands itching to wind themselves into her wild curls. But he stopped himself, he tried to restrain himself - and he did, just in time to hear the girl tell him how she loved him again.

They worked together to peel the denim from his legs, the material not evening hitting the wooden floor before Lydia’s lips were dragging across the skin on his chest. She placed kisses that were so soft around his battle wounds that he hardly felt them.   
As she reached the white band of his boxers, he inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes closed as she trailed her fingers across the front of them.   
He was almost done, there and then. 

When he was free of all clothing, Stiles moved over the girl with such delicate and careful movements, it took her breath away. He moved up Lydia’s body, dropping soft kisses on her softer skin. He ran the tip of his nose between her breasts, inhaling her scent of cherries and something that was uniquely her.   
His eyes were already closed as he met her waiting lips for a kiss. Stiles settled there, between her legs as their kisses grew softer, almost lazy. 

But with their chests pressed together, they felt the rush of each others heartbeats, the erratic thumping and panting breaths. Lydia was so aware of Stiles’ trembling hands as he gripped her waist, her thighs. His kisses became almost hesitant once more, experimental in a way. Their lips pushed and pulled against each other, growing deep and desperate before they pulled away again, brushing them together in a way that made Lydia sigh into his open mouth. 

He made her cry out as he touched her, his fingers so careful but his lips greedy against her own. Lydia seen stars that floated around her head in his dark bedroom, golden planets in his eyes as he met her own, his gaze steady and intense.   
Lydia called out Stiles’ name when she come undone underneath his touch, and she moaned out again when he pushed into her. 

They stayed like that, connected for several minutes, their breaths heavy and erratic as neither dared to move. Stiles braced himself on his forearms, shaking with the sensations, Lydia’s flushed face cradled between them. He dropped kisses onto her nose, peppering across her cheeks and forehead, over her closed eyes and parted lips.   
She told him she loved him, and again, he responded with the same words.

They moved together, slick with perspiration and tangled in the sheets for hours, all through the night until the skies turned from navy to purple, aqua to pink. When the clouds matched the colour of Lydia’s curls, they were lying across the bed the wrong way round, Stiles on his back and Lydia lying across his body.  
He swept the tips of his fingers lazily across her bare back, making swirls with her long waves and feeling her soft breath fall across his chest.

She stirred against his body, lifting herself slightly only to drop a kiss on his chest before burrowing back into his arms. Lydia fit perfectly there, her body tucked into his, her arms around his waist and her head underneath his chin.   
The two teens froze as the front door opened with a soft click and tired footsteps could be heard climbing the stairs. With bodies that were too relaxed and hardly any energy, both boy and girl were slow to react to the floorboards creaking outside the bedroom door.

Then, as if he knew, Sheriff Stilinski paused, before turning and walking back to his own room. Silence fell over the house once more and Lydia let out the breath she had been holding, listening with a grudging smile as Stiles’ chuckled, his heart still beating furiously underneath her cheek.

 

Kisses but not words were exchanged before Stiles finally fell asleep. Lydia lay next to him, so close that she could see each eyelash flicker as he dreamt and his slow breaths fell onto her cheeks. The smile on her kiss-swollen lips was soft and sleepy, but it was permanent and proving hard to get rid of. 

 

Stiles woke up to hazy sunshine streaming through the slats of his blinds, the room bathed in a warm glow that highlighted each particle of dust that swam through the air.   
The sheets were still tangled around him, his naked body ached in the best way and he stretched, rolling over to find flaming curls peeking out from above the duvet. He grinned.  
Reaching out an arm, it didn’t take long to find the girl the messy hair was attached to. 

Lydia murmured from beneath the sheets, her small hands quickly latching onto Stiles’. The boy pulled her closer, careful of his side.   
She curled into him and he placed kissed along her shoulder blades, dipping into her collarbones and nuzzling her neck. He was so happy.

Lydia emerged from the pillows she was surrounded by, facing the boy with sleepy eyes and pouty lips. She sighed as his kisses fell across her body, giggling slightly as he tickled her with his morning stubble.   
This was so new, so overwhelming and so unbelievably comfortable. It was Stiles, he was hers.   
They lay side by side, Stiles playing with her tangled curls, marvelling over how bright they looked in the morning sunlight. Lydia ran gentle hands over Stiles’ ribs, careful mapping out the five jagged lines. They looked considerably better, the redness had reduced and it wasn’t as raised and angry looking.

Still, Lydia frowned at the marks, hating the pain he had obviously felt. 

“What’s the chances of something, something happening to you?’’

Lydia’s voice was barely above a whisper, she was afraid to break the bubble they were in, the perfect sleepy morning and the sex induced haze that surrounded them.   
Stiles took no offence to the question, instead rubbing circles into her lower back as their legs tangled together.   
He shrugged, being far too nonchalant for once. 

“Scott said Deacon thinks it’s slim’’, he smiled softly his voice still rough with sleep.

Lydia visibly relaxed, wondering how she would have dealt with a werewolf Stiles. She wasn’t sure anyone could have handled him. 

“Apparently the claws didn’t go deep enough and the guy’s healed me pretty quickly’’, Stiles explained vaguely, his lips too busy creating trails across the girl’s neck.  
She squirmed at the sensations, her body moving closer to the warmth that Stiles’ bare chest provided, her arms looping around his neck. She tucked her head underneath his chin, a new favourite spot of hers.

“I love you’’.

“Still?’’ Stiles joked, ignoring the way his heart leapt into his mouth, how his head spun at her words. 

She swatted his chest and he chuckled, only pulling her closer into his arms. He dropped a soft kiss onto her head, letting his lips linger there.   
Every movement was unrushed and carefree, their words whispered softly and murmured into each others skin. The kisses were lazy and slow, but deep and full of all the emotion that were built up last night. 

When the sheriff’s car could be heard pulling out of the driveway and the sound of the engine faded into silence once again, the pair deemed it safe to leave the safety of Stiles’ bed. The boy rolled on to his and watched with complete awe and adoration as Lydia padded across his bedroom floor, the morning sunlight bathing her naked body in an angelic glow.   
She piled her bed mussed locks onto the top of her head, stray curls framing her face as she quirked her lips confidently at Stiles’ stares.

Unabashed, she picked up one of Stiles shirts from his desk chair, pulling it over her small frame until it swamped her.  
Crawling back into bed, she rolled the boy onto his back with gentle hands. Satisfied with the way his muscles rippled with the movements, she straddled his waist, each one of her long legs framing his bare body. 

His hands found their place on her smooth legs automatically, rubbing soft circles there without a second thought.  
Lydia bent forward, dropping a lingering kiss onto his lips. She giggled into Stiles when he refused to let her go, instead rolling them both back over and pulling the sheets over their heads.

“We need to get up’’, the girl mumbled happily, making no move to get out of bed again as Stiles ran one hand up the back of her leg, disappearing underneath his shirt.

“Mmm’’, was the response that was grunted into her neck.

“But I’m hungry’’, Lydia pouted before her lips were captured by Stiles’ own, a quick peck that then turned into something deeper and enticed a moan from each of their throats.

When she finally pulled away, Lydia’s eyes were darker and her voice was throaty and low. With fingers still tangled into the hair at the nape of Stiles’ neck, she nudged his nose playfully with own. 

“Breakfast, please’’, she mumbled.

“You’re too adorable to refuse’’, Stiles chuckled, grudgingly moving away from her embrace.

His feet landed on the cool floorboards and he grabbed a pair of sweatpants from his drawers, pulling them on before he stripped the blanket away from the bed, making Lydia yelp at the invasion of cold air. 

“Is breakfast in bed a requirement of Special Friends now, huh?’’ He asked with raised eyebrows.

Lydia looked up at him from the middle of his bed, still in his shirt that she made look so damn good. Her hair was wild, a fiery mess that he would never get tired of seeing streaked across his white pillows. Her wide eyes looked up at him, her full lips still swollen from his endless kisses last night. They quirked questioningly at him and he raised his eyebrows in return.

“I would like to point out that I didn’t ask for breakfast in bed - just in general. And I would say it’s more the requirement of a boyfriend’’. 

Everything stopped as Lydia finished her sentence and Stiles stood still. The words processed through his mind, travelling through his body, making his heart beat faster and smile tug at his lips.   
But he stayed silent, simply crossing his arms awkwardly across his bare chest and nodding once. He grinned before he turned away from the girl, hearing her giggle as he opened the bedroom and headed to kitchen to make his girlfriend breakfast.


	26. The Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise?

_FIVE YEARS LATER..._

  
A soft thud woke Lydia from her light sleep. She startled in her large bed, sitting up and wincing at the light she had left on. Her book lay on the pillow beside her, still open and abandoned. The alarm clock read 3.26am, the red numbers glowing from her bedside.   
The curtains billowed outwards from the open window, the slight summer breeze stirring the fabric.  
  
The apartment was silent again. The clean, white walls were filled with strange shadows that were still unfamiliar to the girl and Lydia shuffled forward on the bed, crawling to her knees as the sheets pooled around her waist.   
The cool air kissed her skin, lifting the wispy, strawberry blond hairs that escaped her messy ponytail.   
  
Another bang came from the direction of the living room, and Lydia heard one of the many cardboard boxes that were piled there, fall to the floor.  
Someone cursed, and Lydia closed her eyes in both relief and exasperation. She imagined her boxes of books tumbling onto the new hardwood flooring and she shook her head into the dim room.  
  
Eventually, after the sound of shoes hitting the carpet and fridge door being opened and closed repeatedly, Stiles stumbled into the bedroom.   
His hair was fluffy from the wind outside and his keys were still clunking noisily in his hands. The boy stood in the doorway, illuminated from the soft light. He leaned against the frame, his eyes shining as his gaze met the girls stare.  
  
He sighed as he took her in, her long, vibrant hair curling around her pretty face as it tumbled from her ponytail. Her doe eyes were still sleepy looking, her long lashes fanning her cheeks as she looked up at him with one eyebrow perfectly arched.  
  
Stiles grinned, knowing that he wasn’t in that much trouble. He could tell, he could always tell when it came to Lydia.   
The sheets were wrapped around her small frame and a lot of smooth skin was showing. Hints of dusty pink lace greeted Stiles, making his lips quirk and his hazy eyes sharpen.  
  
He moved into the room, his gaze still stuck on Lydia’s. The girl was attempting to smother the smile that she knew was close to gracing her lips.   
She watched the boy move towards her, clumsily weaving in and around more boxes and suitcases. Their belongings had been abandoned in their apartment the day before, Stiles convincing Lydia to take a break from unpacking, to join him in their new shower.  
It hadn’t taken long for her to give in.   
  
Now, he had slipped his shirt off, discarding it on top of an unplugged lamp, grinning at her happily the entire time. Silvery stripes marred his side, running across his ribs in the shape of five ribbons that glowed in the soft light.    
She finally conceded, smiling back up at her boyfriend despite how he had woken her up.   
He reached the bottom of their impressive bed, climbing over the wooden posts before he sunk into the mattress, making Lydia giggle and bite down on her lip.  
  
Stiles crawled towards the girl, his eyes dancing as they roamed greedily over her. She looked soft and deliciously rumpled, freckles still dusting her nose from their summer holiday. Her curls were a tangled mess that glowed like a beacon in the dark, calling out to him.   
He moved over her, watching in awe as her body responded to his. She lay back as Stiles moved his legs between her own, leaning on his forearms as his bare chest pressed down on her own.   
She was warm from bed, humming happily under him, sending small vibrations through his body.  
  
His hands sought out Lydia’s curls, his fingers tangling there as he placed tequila tasting kisses along her jaw, on her cheeks and nose. She chuckled under his lips, her legs emerging from the sheets into the cool night air, wrapping themselves around the boy’s. The denim was rough against her bare legs, his hands warm on her hips.   
  
His lips were smiling as he met her own, teasing pecks turning into longer kisses. Deep, full kisses that evoken moans and sighs.   
Lydia pulled away slightly, her head on her pillow as Stiles brushed his nose against her own with affection.  
  
“Good night with the boys then?’’, she murmured, her warm breath fanning over Stiles lips.  
  
He nodded, burrowing his face into the crook of her neck,  finding as much contact with her skin as he could.  
  
He smelled slightly smoky from the bar, his lips tasting like whiskey and Stiles. He kissed her neck, nipping at her bra strap as she let out little noises from under him. The boy grinned, sitting up and capturing her hands in his.   
  
Lydia let him intertwine their fingers as he sat over her, his long legs on either side of her body. He gazed down at her with so much love it hurt. Her chest would constrict and it was if all the oxygen left the world. Stiles looked at Lydia like she held the earth and all its planets and moons aloft.   
  
It took her little while longer to eventually realise it, but Lydia discovered at the age of eighteen, that she looked at Stiles in the exact same way.  
Five years later, her heart still dropped when he placed his lips on hers.   
  
Lydia gave a gentle pull on the boys hands and he obeyed, falling down to her and into her waiting embrace. Her arms wound their way around the familiar curve of his broad shoulders, finding her favourite spot at the nape of his neck. Lydia’s fingers played with the small hairs there, smiling as the boy hummed in satisfaction.  
  
The boy kissed her again, her lips attracting him like a moth to a flame.  Stiles moved against her, his laughter filling her ears and her smile pressing against his lips. They were happy, carefree and a world away from the life they lived a few years back.  
  
“Lydia?”  
  
Stiles whispered into the girls parted lips, his tongue sneaking out to taste her, to trace the curve her smile made.  
  
“Mmm?’’   
  
The girl refused to part from him, leaning upwards and into his arms as he tried to pull away with a chuckle.   
  
“Lydia...’’  
  
Lydia let Stiles’ bottom lip slide from her teasing bite and she grinned as he let out a hiss, grinding his body down into her own. He laughed at her expression, her pout that told him she missed his touch as much as he did.   
  
“I’ve been thinking...’’  
  
“Oh, God help us all’’, Lydia snarked; giggling when Stiles retaliated with his fingers tickling her bare sides, skimming the lace of her bra, tugging at the boxers she wore, the pair that belonged to him.   
“Hush woman, it’s a good idea, I promise’’, Stiles grinned at her, rolling onto his side until he sunk into the soft blankets.   
  
He pulled Lydia to him, wrapping her tiny frame in his warm arms, finally feeling a little more at home in the still new and unfamiliar apartment. She sighed in his embrace, her cheek resting against his chest as she placed whispers of kisses there, marking the moles and freckles she knew so well with her lips.   
  
“You know how we’ve known each other since we were like, five?’’ Stiles placed a gentle hand on Lydia’s cheek, rubbing soft circles onto her jawline.  
  
She nodded, placing her hand over his and marveling over how large it was compared to her own. How safe his touch made her feel.  
  
“And you never knew I existed unt-’’,  Stiles barked out a laugh as Lydia thumped his shoulder with her little fist, doing nothing more than making the boy amused. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes sparkling.  
  
“But it’s okay, it’s okay because then we became friends’’, Stiles told her with humour still in his voice, “And then _special_ friends’’.  
  
Lydia pursed her lips and tried to smother her laughter at her boyfriend's incorrigible expression. He looked at her with dark, hooded eyes. Liquid gold pools filled with love and adoration.   
  
“And now, now we have our own little place and everything’s great’’, Stiles let out a disbelieving chuckle, tracing the bridge of the girls nose with his thumb, trailing it down to her cupids bow, over her full lips.  
  
“You make me so happy Lydia, I’m so _happy_ with you’’.  
  
Lydia parted her lips to respond but Stiles placed his own against them, sealing her words with a kiss. He knew she was going to tell him that he made her happy too, how she loved him, so much.  
But right then, Stiles needed to get his words out. The effect of the small amounts of alcohol he consumed were wearing off, leaving him less brave than when he had first fallen into bed.   
  
“So, I was thinking, just, you know - if you wanted to...’’  
  
Lydia let out a bubble of laughter, her eyes shining with unshed tears as Stiles glanced nervously down at the girl wrapped in his arms. The room was silent, the only sounds coming from outside. The wind swayed the trees and traffic moved in the distance.   
  
“Yes’’, Lydia told him through smiling lips. Her cheeks were pink, her hands clasping his neck. She brought his face down to her own,   
  
“Wait, wha-? Yes?’’ Stiles blinked down at her, slightly confused as he realised he hadn’t finished his question.  
  
“Yes, I’ll marry you’’, the girl let out another surprised giggle, her lips moving from his cheeks, to his jaw, over the tip of his nose before landing on his lips.  
  
Stiles clutched the girl, wrapping his arms around her waist as he lifted her up and over. He placed Lydia in his lap, her legs moving automatically to their familiar position on each side of his hips. She leant down to meet his kiss, their laughter being swallowed by each other, their smiles making their teeth clash and their noses bump  
  
“You’ll marry me?’’ Stiles murmured into her lips, the awe and shock so evident in his voice that it made Lydia’s heart throb.  
  
She nodded against him, his lips never leaving her own as he spoke nonsense to her, laughing and grinning between kisses and ‘I love you’s’’.  
  
Lydia sat up, a smile still playing on the curve of her pouty lips. She straddled his narrow waist, taking in the way his muscles rippled and moved underneath her. In one swift movement, she unclasped her bra, throwing the lace into the messy room behind her.   
The boy let out a groan mixed with joyful laughter, hooking his fingers into the checked boxers she wore. They were adorable too big for her tiny frame, rolled up messily around her hips.  
  
Stiles tugged at them, pulling the girl down onto his chest as he attacked her neck with kisses and nips. She shrieked playfully, his stubble scratching against her bare skin as he kissed over her collarbones, dipping his lips between the hills and valleys of her body.   
  
He met her gaze once more as he travelled up her body, Stiles’ eyes alight with every happy emotion in the world.   
Lydia looked back at him with an ear to ear grin, her whole body flushed with a happy glow.  
  
“Oh, you’re going to be one special wife, Miss Martin’’.


End file.
